Robert  Clarke  Si  Co 


V 


•-:J-       .'.-/, 


ALBRECHT. 


tj)e 


of 


POEMS. 

BERRIES  OP  THE  BRIER.     i6mo.    Cloth.    Price,  ti.oo. 
SONNETS  IN  SHADOW.    i6mo.    Cloth.    Price,  »i.oo. 
Both  Volumes  bound  in  one.    i6mo.    Cloth.    Price,  11.50. 

PROSE. 
A  LAD'S  LOVE.     A  Story.     i6mo.     Cloth.     Price,    »i.oo; 

paper,  50  cents.  * 

PRINCE  VANCE.  A  Story  of  a  Prince  with  a  Court  in  his 
Box.  By  ELEANOR  PUTNAM  and  ARLO  BATES.  Illus- 
trated by  Frank  Myrick.  Small  4to.  Cloth.  Price,  »i.so. 

ROBERTS  BROTHERS,  Publishers. 


ALBRECHT. 


ARLO    BATES. 


toalficn  tolie0m. 

Dirtmar  fion  flist. 


BOSTON: 
ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 

1890. 


Copyright,  1890, 
BY   ARLO    BATES. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS: 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


THE    MEMORY   OF    MY  FATHER, 

NIRAN    BATES, 

AND    OF    MY    MOTHER, 

SUSAN    THAXTER    BATES, 
I  Meat*  tljis  Book; 

profoundly  conscious  that  it  can  bring  to  me  no  other 
satisfaction  or  honor  so  great  as  the  keeping  in  re- 
membrance the  fact  that  I  am  their  son. 


2061751 


FORE-WORD. 


It  must  be  evident  to  the  most  careless  observer  that 
the  treatment  of  the  theme  with  which  the  present  story 
deals  would  probably  not  have  taken  the  form  it  has,  had 
"  Undine ' '  not  been  written  before  it;  but  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that  "Albrecht"  will  not  on  that  account  be  set  down  as 
an  attempt  either  to  imitate  or  to  rival  that  immortal 
romance. 

No  effort  has  been  made  to  secure  historical  exactness, 
as  the  intent  of  the  tale  was  wholly  independent  of  this. 
To  furnish  a  picture  of  the  times  was  not  in  the  least  the 
thing  sought. 

A  romance  can  hardly  fall  into  a  more  fatal  error 
than  to  attempt  the  didactic,  and  there  is  no  intention  in 
the  present  story  of  enforcing  any  moral  whatever;  and 
yet  the  problem  which  lies  at  the  heart  of  the  tale  is 
one  which  is  of  sufficient  significance  in  human  life  to 
furnish  a  reasonable  excuse  for  any  book  which,  even 
without  contributing  anything  to  its  solution,  states  it  so 
that  it  appeals  to  the  reader  until  he  recognizes  its  deep 
import. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.     How  ONE  WENT n 

II.     How  ONE  CAME 25 

III.  How  THE  KNIGHT  SANG 33 

IV.  How  HE  REMAINED  TO  Woo      ...  44 
V.  How  THEY  DISCOURSED  OF  KISSES      .  56 

VI.  How  THEY  CAME  TO    KISSES    THEM- 
SELVES    66 

VII.  How  THE  TIME  WORE  TO  THE  WED- 
DING DAY 75 

VIII.  OF  THE  EVE  BEFORE  THE  WEDDING     .  83 

IX.  OF  THE  WEDDING  MORNING    ....  93 

X.     How  THEY  WERE  WED 101 

XI.  How  ALBRECHT  CONFESSED     .     .     .     .  113 

XII.  How  THE  MORGENGABE  WAS  BESTOWED  125 

XIII.  How  THE  DAYS  SPED  AT  RITTENBERG  134 

XIV.  How  THE  PRIEST  BECAME  TROUBLED  .  144 
XV.  How  COUNT  STEPHEN  RETURNED    .     .  154 

XVI.  How  THE  COUNT  TALKED  AND    SANG  162 

XVII.  How  THEY  HUNTED  THE  STAG  .'   .     .  172 

XVIII.  How  HERR  VON  ZIMMERN  CAME  AGAIN  181 


10  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

'    XIX.     How    ERNA  AND    ALBRECHT    TALKED 

OF  LIFE 191 

XX.     How  THEY  RODE  TO  FLY  THE  FALCON     198 
XXI.     How  ALBRECHT  AND  HERR  FREDERICK 

TALKED  IN  THE  WOOD 211 

XXII.     How  ALBRECHT  RODE  HOME  .... 

XXIII.  How  ERNA  SUFFERED 

XXIV.  How  COUNT  STEPHEN  MET  HERR  FRED- 

ERICH    242 

XXV.     How  FATHER  CHRISTOPHER  SENT  FOR 

ALBRECHT 252 

XXVI.     How  ALBRECHT  AND   ERNA   FORGAVE 

EACH  OTHER 258 


ALBRECHT. 


HOW   ONE  WENT. 

LIKE  a  vast  sea  the  mighty  Schwarzwald 
stretched  its  forests  of  pine  and  its  wide 
wastes  of  heather  around  Castle  Rittenberg,  its 
surface  forever  fretted  into  waves  by  the  wind. 
Like  the  sea  it  seemed  measureless,  and  the 
lands  which  lay  beyond  its  borders  appeared  to 
the  scattered  dwellers  in  its  valleys  as  remote 
as  might  appear  the  continents  to  the  people  of 
far  islands. 

Like  the  sea,  moreover,  the  Schwarzwald  was 
peopled  by  strange  beings,  of  whom  alike  the 
peasant  folk  who  dwelt  upon  its  borders,  the 
rude  churls  whose  huts  stood  here  and  there  in 
clusters  in  its  less  intractable  nooks,  and  the 
nobles  whose  castles  overtopped  the  wilderness 
of  trees  and  bracken,  went  always  in  secret 
dread.  In  the  north  lurked  the  hordes  of  the 
Huns,  the  terrible  barbarians  who  from  time 


12  ALBRECHT. 

to  time  descended,  hardly  human,  upon  the 
fertile  lands  which  lay  beyond  the  borders  of 
the  forest,  swarming  as  they  went  upon  what- 
ever luckless  castle  lay  in  their  path.  The 
boldest  knight  might  well  tremble  at  the  name 
of  the  ferocious  Huns,  and  even  the  army  of 
Charlemagne  himself  had  hardly  been  able  to 
cope  with  this  foe. 

But  more  near  at  hand,  and  more  terrible 
than  even  the  Huns,  were  the  strange  creatures 
who  abode  in  the  forest,  and  who  walked  invisi- 
ble at  their  will,  the  mysterious  beings  who 
lurked  in  dim  recesses,  and  of  whom  men  spoke 
only  in  awe-struck  whispers.  Even  what  they 
were  it  was  not  easy  to  say ;  and  who  could  tell 
how  they  were  offended  or  how  to  be  placated? 
The  nixies  of  the  lakes  and  streams ;  the  dwarfs 
and  gnomes  of  cave  and  mountain;  the  kobolds, 
who  were  more  daring  and  more  human  in  ap- 
pearance than  either,  so  that  haply  a  man  might 
endanger  not  only  his  life  but  even  his  soul 
holding  commerce  with  them,  unsuspecting  that 
they  were  not  of  his  fellow  mortals,  —  all  these 
and  many  others  dwelt  in  the  shadowy  recesses, 
and  against  these  not  even  the  hosts  of  the  Great 
Emperor  would  avail. 

The  wind  soughing  all  day  in  the  pine-trees, 
and  the  weird,  sweet  music  of  the  elfin  harps 
which  belated  wanderers  heard  sounding  to  lure 


HOW   ONE  WENT.  13 

them  on  into  blinder  depths  of  the  wood,  seemed 
to  sing  the  same  song ;  but  its  mystery  human 
ears  might  not  fathom,  and  scarcely  could 
human  will  resist  its  spell.  In  the  tempest 
the  bugles  of  the  Wild  Huntsman  pealed 
shrilly  through  the  storm,  and  the  retainers  at 
Castle  Rittenberg  crossed  themselves  at  the 
sound  almost  as  openly  as  did  the  damsels; 
but  there  was  less  danger  in  this  than  in  the 
heavenly  sweet  strains  which  beguiled  the 
wayfarer  into  forgetfulness  of  home  and  of  dear 
ones  until  he  joined  himself  to  the  soulless  folk 
of  the  forest,  and  was  heard  of  no  more. 

It  was  music  of  this  sort,  more  sweet  than 
words  might  tell,  faint  on  the  air  as  the  breath 
of  a  sigh  or  yet  again  swelling  full  and  strong 
as  a  blast  from  the  horns  when  the  hunt  is 
rushing  through  the  wood,  that  had  of  late  been 
heard  around  the  castle.  Delicious,  enervating, 
seductive  and  yet  pleading,  the  strange  melodies 
had  seemed  to  surround  the  towers,  as  if  throngs 
of  invisible  musicians  floated  in  the  air  to  bring 
their  heavenly  minstrelsy  to  the  Countess  Erna. 

There  had  indeed  been  more  than  one  token 
that  something  mysterious  was  forward  in  the 
forest;  and  although  the  priest  of  Rittenberg 
frowned  upon  all  talk  of  the  wood-spirits  and 
their  doings,  the  folk  of  the  castle  whispered 
under  their  breath  many  a  wild  surmise. 


14  ALBRECHT. 

Mayhap  it  was  of  these  things  that  the  Coun- 
tess Erna  dreamed  as  one  spring  morning  she 
sat  by  her  open  lattice,  albeit  she  had  before 
her  a  parchment  from  which  she  might  be 
reading.  From  below  arose  the  noise  of  horses' 
hoofs,  the  cries  of  grooms  and  pages,  the  clatter 
bf  spurs  upon  the  stone  pavement,  and' all  the 
sounds  that  betoken  the  preparation  of  a  troop 
to  leave  the  castle.  So  little  did  she  heed,  how- 
ever, that  she  seemed  not  to  hear.  So  motion* 
less  was  she  that  the  doves  which  had  perched 
upon  the  wide  window-ledge  in  perfect  fearless- 
ness had  ceased  to  regard  her  at  all,  and  preened 
themselves  in  the  sun  with  soft,  full-throated 
cooings,  contrasting  oddly  with  the  clamor 
which  arose  from  below. 

The  morning  sun  shone  gloriously,  casting  a 
flood  of  light  through  the  room ;  and  although 
Erna  sat  withdrawn  from  the  fervor  of  its  direct 
rays,  she  seemed  to  glow  in  the  radiance  like 
a  lily  golden-hearted.  Her  hair,  yellow  as  the 
flax  on  a  fairy's  distaff,  caught  a  stray  sunbeam 
which  stole  through  a  crevice  in  the  curtain- 
folds,  and  scattered  the  light  in  a  hundred  re- 
flections, making  of  them  an  aureole  about  the 
graceful  young  head.  The  eyes,  blue  as  an 
oke'r-bell,  were  now  and  then  raised  from  the 
richly  illuminated  parchment  before  her,  ab- 
sently regarding  the  doves  as  if  she  saw  them 


HOW   ONE   WENT.  15 

not,  while  the  slender  hands  which  held  the 
scroll  were  only  a  little  warmer  in  their  color 
than  the  robe  of  snowy  wool  loosely  confined 
at  the  waist  with  a  golden  girdle.  As  she  sat 
there  in  the  still  chamber,  withdrawn  from  the 
bustle  of  the  courtyard  below  in  mind  no  less 
than  in  place,  there  was  about  the  countess  an 
atmosphere  of  peace,  of  innocence,  of  purity, 
one  might  almost  have  said  of  holiness,  that  he 
must  be  dull  indeed  who  could  not  feel,  or  who, 
feeling,  failed  to  reverence. 

There  was  little  reverence,  however,  in  the 
mien  of  the  old  dame  who  came  hastily  into 
the  chamber,  and  broke  in  upon  the  reading 
and  the  dreaming  of  the  Countess  Erna  with 
exclamations  full  of  vexation. 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin  !  "  she  cried.  "  Thou 
sittest  here  reading  as  quietly  as  if  thy  suitor, 
Count  Stephen,  were  a  thousand  leagues  away 
instead  of  waiting  below  to  take  leave  of  thee. 
No  wonder  that  he  declares  that  thou  hast  not 
a  drop  of  warm  blood  in  thy  body,  as  his 
squire  reported  to  my  damsel." 

"  Count  Stephen  is  no  suitor  of  mine,"  Erna 
responded  calmly,  "  as  no  one  knoweth  better 
than  thou,  Aunt  Adelaide.  He  is  my  guest, 
however,  and  I  should  be  loath  to  fail  in  aught 
of  courtesy  toward  him.  .Why  have  I  not  been 
summoned  if  he  be  in  truth  waiting?" 


16  ALBRECHT. 

"  Well,  if  he  be  not  waiting,"  the  old  dame 
replied  with  a  lower  voice  and  some  softening 
of  manner,  "  he  is  at  least  ready  to  set  out,  and 
that  is  much  the  same  thing.  It  would  certainly 
look  more  attentive  on  thy  part  shouldst  thou 
be  in  the  hall  when  he  comes  to  take  leave 
rather  than  to  wait  to  be  sent  for." 

"  Doubtless ;  but  I  have  no  wish  to  be  atten- 
tive to  Count  Stephen  beyond  the  claim  of  any 
guest." 

"  But  Count  Stephen  is  a  member  of  the 
family." 

"  His  connection  is  hardly  near  enough  to 
count  in  this  matter,"  Erna  answered.  "  Dear 
Aunt,"  she  continued,  coming  closer  to  the 
other,  and  laying  a  caressing  hand  lightly  upon 
the  old  woman's  arm,  "  I  am  sorry  that  thou 
shouldst  be  disappointed.  I  did  what  I  could 
to  fulfil  thy  wish  when  I  bade  thee  have  Count 
Stephen  come  here,  although  what  we  had 
heard  of  him  was  so  little  of  the  sort  to  make 
me  long  for  such  a  guest,  because  I  knew  that 
more  than  for  aught  else  in  the  world  thou 
didst  long  for  the  perpetuation  of  the  Von 
Rittenberg  name  by  my  becoming  his  wife.  I 
shrank  from  the  knight  from  the  first  moment 
I  saw  him,  and  never  could  it  be  that  I  should 
be  brought  to  look  upon  him  with  favor.  Hap- 
pily he  feels  the  same  repugnance  to  me,  so 


HOW   ONE  WENT.  I/ 

that  I  am  spared  the  pain  of  telling  him  nay; 
but  I  cannot  fail  to  be  glad  at  his  departure." 

The  old  dame,  who  was  so  small  and  so  old 
that  she  seemed  to  have  shrivelled  away  in 
long  centuries,  overlooked  and  forgotten  by 
the  Angel  of  Death,  was  evidently  moved  by  the 
caressing  air  of  the  countess ;  but  her  grievance 
was  too  deep  and  of  too  long  standing  to  be 
so  lightly  passed  over,  and  she  could  not  re- 
strain herself  from  the  further  venting  of  her 
displeasure. 

"  Why  does  he  feel  cold  toward  thee  ?  "  she 
demanded.  "  Hast  thou  been  other  than  an 
ice-hill  to  him  since  he  entered  the  castle?  I 
sent  for  Count  Stephen  to  come  here  to  pay  his 
respects  to  me  because  he  is  the  only  man  alive 
who  bears  our  name ;  and  whatever  thou  mayst 
say,  he  bears  it  like  a  brave  knight.  Thou  hast 
met  him  as  if  thou  wouldst  remind  him  that 
while  he  hath  no  great  possessions  thou  art 
chatelaine  of  the  richest  domain  in  the  Ober- 
Schwarzwald." 

"  Aunt  Adelaide  !  "  interrupted  Erna,  a  flush 
of  indignation  rising  in  her  clear  cheek,  "not 
even  thou  hast  a  right  to  charge  me  with  insult- 
ing my  guests." 

"  God's  blood  !  "  the  other  returned.  "  There 
spoke  thy  father,  Heaven  rest  his  soul !  But 
thou  knowest,"  she  continued,  softening  her 


1 8  ALBRECHT. 

tone,  "  that  I  cannot  live  forever  to  have  care 
for  thee,  and  that  I  cannot  die  easy  till  thou  art 
well  wed.  There  are  strange  rumors  in  the  air, 
too,  and  who  knoweth  what  the  music  from  the 
forest  that  has  been  heard  of  late  may  betoken? 
And  Elsa  tells  me  that  there  hath  been  about  the 
place  a  weird  creature  in  the  guise  of  a  man 
who  walketh  limpingly.  It  all  bodes  some  won- 
derful thing  that  is  to  hap,  and  I  would  to  the 
saints  that  Rittenberg  had  a  man  to  defend  it, 
whatever  may  befall." 

The  entrance  of  a  servant  who  announced 
that  the  Count  von  Rittenberg  was  now  in 
truth  waiting  to  take  leave,  interrupted  Lady 
Adelaide,  and  brought  her  at  once  to  a  re- 
quest which  had  been  in  her  shrewd  mind  ever 
since  she  learned  that  the  guest  was  likely  to 
set  off  without  having  made  that  proffer  for 
the  hand  of  Erna  to  secure  which  she  had  in- 
vited him  to  the  castle. 

"  At  least  this  thou  canst  do  to  please  me," 
she  said ;  "  thou  canst  invite  him  to  rest  here 
on  his  way  back  from  Strasburg,  whither  he  is 
journeying."  « 

"It  will  be  idle  for  thy  project,  Aunt,"  the 
countess  answered  kindly ;  "  but  if  it  will  please 
thee  I  will  db  it." 

The  old  aunt  looked  after  the  slender  maiden 
as  she  left  the  chamber,  and  sighed.  The  Lady 


HOW   ONE   WENT.  19 

Adelaide  was  almost  a  century  old,  and  she  had 
lived  to  see  one  generation  after  another  fall 
around  her  like  snowflakes  that  are  a  moment 
in  the  air  and  then  are  seen  no  more.  She  felt 
that  upon  her  rather  than  upon  her  niece  rested 
the  burden  of  preserving  the  honor  of  the  house 
of  Von  Rittenberg,  and  she  could  but  feel 
keenly  the  failure  of  her  schemes  for  the  per- 
petuation of  the  line  and  the  name.  She  had 
been  accustomed,  moreover,  to  being  obeyed. 
For  three  generations  she  had  held  an  impor- 
tant place  in  the  councils  of  the  family,  even 
her  imperious  grand-nephew,  the  father  of  the 
Countess  Erna,  having  been  accustomed  to  con- 
sult her  in  matters  of  importance.  She  was 
not  without  a  feeling  of  indignant  surprise  that 
her  plans  should  be  disregarded,  and  perhaps 
this  helped  her  to  endure  the  genuine  sorrow 
which  she  felt  whenever  she  thought  of  the  pos- 
sibility of  the  failure  of  the  family  name. 

The  late  count  had  fallen  fighting  in  the 
place  of  honor  in  the  advance  guard  of  the 
Gre^t  Emperor,  at  the  head  of  the  corps  of 
Suabians  whose  valor  inspired  in  Charlemagne 
so  warm  an  admiration.  So  high  had  Count 
von  Rittenberg  stood  in  the  favor  of  the  em- 
peror that  a  special  messenger  had  been  de- 
spatched by  Charlemagne's  order  to  bear  the 
knight's  sword  and  shield  to  his  family  with  rich 


20  ALBRECHT. 

tokens  of  the  royal  favor  and  expressions  of 
sympathy.  But  not  even  this  great  honor  could 
prevent  the  shock  from  breaking  the  heart  of 
his  young  wife,  just  recovering  from  the  birth 
of  her  first  child,  the  present  countess ;  and 
Erna  was  thus  left  doubly  orphaned  while  yet 
in  her  cradle. 

During  her  infancy  and  girlhood  Erna  had 
been  under  the  guardianship  of  the  Lady  Ade- 
laide, who  seemed  to  hold  the  infirmities  of 
age  at  bay  with  a  success  little  short  of  a  mira- 
cle. The  retainers  believed  her  to  be  in  posses- 
sion of  some  secret  by  means  of  which  she 
preserved  her  vigor;  and  many  were  the  un- 
canny whispers  which  circulated  through  the 
castle  concerning  her.  Father  Christopher,  the 
chaplain  of  the  Von  Rittenberg  household,  had 
more  than  once  set  himself  to  combat  these 
rumors  ;  but  the  Lady  Adelaide  herself  never 
exhibited  any  annoyance  if  she  chanced  to  hear 
them  hinted  at,  and  indeed  seemed  not  ill- 
pleased  that  she  should  enjoy  a  reputation 
which  so  lifted  her  above  the  rest  of  her  fellow 
mortals. 

The  marriage  of  Erna  and  Count  Stephen 
von  Rittenberg  was  a  project  which  had  long 
occupied  the  thoughts  of  the  Lady  Adelaide. 
The  count  belonged  to  a  younger  branch  of 
the  family  which  had  settled  near  the  Lake  of 


HOW   ONE  WENT.  21 

Constance  half  a  century  before,  and  lorded  it 
over  a  petty  colony  of  boatmen  whose  settle- 
ment was  called  Schaffhausen  from  their  boat- 
sheds.  There  had  never  been  very  cordial 
relations  between  the  two  branches,  and  Count 
Stephen  would  never  have  been  sought  out  by 
his  aged  relative  had  not  her  desire  to  perpetuate 
the  Von  Rittenberg  name  overcome  her  tradi- 
tional scorn  of  the  "  Schaffleute,"  as  the  Schaff- 
hausen  Von  Rittenbergs  were  contemptuously 
called  by  the  elder  branch.  The  count  had  a 
reputation  not  of  the  best,  it  was  unhappily  true  ; 
but  he  was  at  least  a  Von  Rittenberg,  and  that 
outweighed  all  other  considerations  in  the  mind 
of  the  old  matchmaker.  She  had  invited  him 
to  visit  her,  taking  care  that  he  should  under- 
stand that  he  was  to  be  considered  in  the  light 
of  a  possible  candidate  for  the  hand  of  the 
heiress  of  Rittenberg,  and  it  was  with  sincere 
regret  as  well  as  vexation  that  she  saw  her 
scheming  come  to  naught. 

From  the  first  the  repulsion  had  been  mutual 
between  the  countess  and  her  guest.  He  was 
by  no  means  insensible  to  the  advantages  of 
the  match,  which  offered  him  the  lordship  of 
the  richest  holding  in  all  the  Schwarzwald, 
confirmed  to  the  Von  Rittenbergs  by  special 
decree  of  Charlemagne  himself,  but  he  was  a 
man  accustomed  to  consider  his  inclinations 


22  ALBRECHT. 

in  all  things  and  first  of  all  things ;  so  that 
when  he  found  the  countess  not  to  his  liking, 
he  pushed  the  affair  no  further.  He  was  a 
man  to  whom  life  meant  sensuous  pleasure ;  and 
Erna,  in  her  white  innocence,  her  purity  and 
devotion,  failed  to  please  him.  He  found  her 
cold  and  tediously  religious,  and  instinctively 
felt  that  the  presence  of  a  wife  with  her  stand- 
ards of  conduct  would  be  a  perpetual  rebuke 
to  his  pleasure-loving  life. 

On  her  side  Erna  shrank  from  the  count 
without  understanding  why.  The  taint  of  evil 
was  on  him,  and  her  pure  maidenly  sense  was 
offended  without  comprehending  how.  She  felt 
in  a  way  degraded  by  his  very  presence ;  the 
bold,  curious  looks  with  which  he  regarded 
her  affected  her  like  an  affront.  Her  instinc- 
tive purity  was  repelled  by  the  sensual  atmos- 
phere which  he  created  wherever  he  came. 
She  could  not  have  explained  even  to  herself 
what  she  felt,  but  it  was  impossible  for  her 
to  endure  his  presence  save  by  the  strongest 
effort.  It  was  with  a  feeling  of  relief  that  she 
passed  down  the  long  hall  to  say  good-by  to 
him ;  and  even  the  fact  that  she  had  promised 
her  aunt  to  ask  him  to  return  did  not  at  the 
moment  trouble  her,  since  his  return  seemed 
too  uncertain  and  remote  to  weigh  against  the 
present  departure.  The  Lady  Adelaide,  with  a 


HOW   ONE   WENT.  23 

diplomacy  which  was  wholly  wasted,  had  herself 
taken  leave  of  Count  Stephen  earlier,  to  the  end 
that  her  niece  might  receive  his  farewell  alone. 

There  was  short  speech  between  the  guest 
and  his  hostess,  neither  of  whom  wished  to 
prolong  the  interview ;  and  hardly  ten  minutes 
from  the  time  she  had  left  it,  Erna  re-entered 
her  chamber.  She  took  up  the  scroll  she  had 
been  reading,  a  copy  of  the  writings  of  Saint 
Cuthbert,  but  paused  before  she  opened  it  to 
look  out  at  the  train  of  the  departing  guest, 
which  was  already  in  motion.  She  watched 
it  cross  the  drawbridge  and  wind  down  the 
side  of  the  hill  upon  which  the  castle  stood; 
and  after  it  had  vanished,  with  its  glitter  of 
armor,  flash  of  helmet,  gay  flutter  of  pennant 
and  waving  of  plumes,  into  the  obscurity  of 
the  pine  forest  below,  which  swallowed  up  the 
troop  and  hid  its  further  progress  from  sight, 
she  leaned  wistfully  upon  the  window-ledge, 
buried  in  thought.  She  was  wondering  if  she 
were  different  from  other  maidens,  that  her  heart 
had  not  been  touched,  but  that  she  had  rather 
been  repelled  by  the  handsome  knight  who  had 
just  left  her ;  and  she  half  doubted  whether  he 
had  not  been  right  in  likening  her  to  a  human 
iceberg. 

Suddenly  her  reverie  was  broken  by  the 
shrill,  clear  blast  of  a  horn,  which  arose  from 


24  ALBRECHT. 

the  pine  wood  below,  and  came  soaring  up- 
ward like  the  piercingly  sweet  song  of  a  bird 
that  pours  its  whole  heart  out  singing  and 
straining  its  flight  toward  the  blue  heaven. 

The  sound  broke  in  upon  her  revery  as  if 
it  were  a  summons  from  some  of  the  myste- 
rious powers  whose  home  was  in  the  forest. 
Often  as  she  had  heard  a  bugle  hailing  the 
warder  of  Rittenberg,  it  had  never  happened 
that  there  had  come  with  the  sound  such  a 
thrill  as  this  call  brought.  Far  stretched  and 
weird  the  great  Schwarzwald  lay,  the  warm 
summer  sun  seeming  to  glance  from  its  im- 
penetrable surface,  unable  to  pierce  to  the 
depths  wherein  lurked  the  wild  woodland  crea- 
tures as  the  nixies  lurked  in  the  lakes ;  and 
something  that  was  half  a  shudder  crossed  her 
frame,  as  the  note  of  that  horn  called  up  the 
thought  of  all  the  strange  secrets  which  therein 
lay  hidden.  Then,  with  an  effort,  she  shook  off 
the  momentary  oppression,  and  threw  her  clear 
glance  down  into  the  valley  to  see  whence  came 
the  call. 


HOW  ONE  CAME.  2$ 


II 


HOW  ONE   CAME. 

ERNA  leaned  forward  over  the  wide  stone 
window-ledge,  and  turned  her  gaze  down- 
ward to  where  the  road,  little  more  than  a 
bridle-path,  emerged  from  the  obscurity  of  the 
pine  wood  to  begin  its  winding  ascent  to  the 
castle  gate.  A  second  blast  of  the  bugle- 
horn,  blown  with  full  lungs  and  with  a  good 
will  that  seemed  to  promise  a  jocund  disposi- 
tion in  the  visitor  who  came  thus  heralded, 
and  there  rode  out  of  the  wood  a  knight, 
followed  by  his  squire  and  a  couple  of  men- 
at-arms. 

The  countess  strained  her  eyes  in  a  natural 
curiosity  to  discover  what  manner  of  man  the 
forest  was  sending  her  as  a  guest.  He  was 
too  far  below  for  her  to  be  able  to  distinguish 
his  features,  although  he  rode  with  beaver  up ; 
but  she  could  appreciate  the  fact  that  he  sat 
his  horse,  a  superb  chestnut  stallion,  with  the 
ease  and  grace  of  one  thoroughly  bred  to 
knightly  customs.  He  was  a  man  of  com- 


26  ALBRECHT. 

manding  stature,  overtopping  the  squire  who 
rode  close  behind  him,  and  dwarfing  the  men- 
at-arms  by  contrast.  His  armor,  she  was 
able  to  perceive  as  he  rode  up  the  hill  and 
thus  came  somewhat  nearer,  was  of  the  rich- 
est, and  the  flash  of  jewels  on  his  bridle-rein 
caught  her  eye  as  he  rode  into  the  sunlight. 

So  striking  was  the  mien  of  the  stranger 
knight  that  Erna  suddenly  found  herself  af- 
fected with  a  strange  kindness  for  him,  and 
unconsciously  sighed  as  the  thought  flitted 
through  her  mind  that  whoever  he  might  be, 
he  was  probably  merely  a  traveller  who  sought 
rest  and  refreshment  in  the  castle  to-day,  to 
vanish  to-morrow  into  the  unknown  world  from 
which  he  had  come.  Then  she  smiled  at  her 
own  folly  in  thus  grieving  at  the  departure  of 
a  perfect  stranger  before  she  had  even  met 
him  to  welcome  his  arrival ;  and  as  he  drew 
near  the  castle  gate,  and  the  squire  for  the 
third  time  blew  a  merry  blast  on  the  horn,  she 
drew  back  from  the  window.  As  she  did  so, 
she  fancied  that  the  unknown  cast  a  sudden 
glance  up  to  her  casement;  and  far  away  as  he 
was,  she  seemed  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  eyes 
dark  and  full  of  fire. 

Full  of  curiosity,  Erna  waited  to  be  sum- 
moned as  chatelaine  of  the  castle,  to  go  through 
the  formality  of  according  the  hospitalities  of 


HOW   ONE  CAME.  27 

the  house  to  the  guest.  It  was  the  generous 
custom  of  the  Von  Rittenbergs  to  receive  all 
who  came,  although  the  Lady  Adelaide  was 
continually  predicting  evil  results  from  a  hos- 
pitality so  unguarded  and  so  unusual  in  a  for- 
tress where  the  head  of  the  family  was  an 
unmarried  woman.  The  countess  took  pride 
in  keeping  up  the  family  traditions,  but  she 
was  even  more  moved  to  this  course  by  a 
genuine  religious  charity.  It  seemed  to  her 
tender  heart  monstrous  to  deny  food  and  shel- 
ter to  any  when  it  was  possible  to  give  them ; 
and  if  her  course  had  been  shaped  rather  by 
the  sentiments  of  her  confessor,  Father  Chris- 
topher, than  by  ordinary  considerations  of  pru- 
dence, there  had  at  least  no  harm  befallen  from 
her  custom  thus  far. 

When  Erna  descended  to  the  great  hall  to 
meet  the  new-comer,  she  found  him  conversing 
with  Father  Christopher,  whom  he  overtopped 
by  nearly  a  head.  She  was  astonished  by  the 
stranger's  wonderful  beauty.  His  face  was  of 
a  mould  as  powerful  as  his  figure.  A  heavy 
chestnut  beard,  curling  and  glossy,  but  barely 
descending  to  his  collar,  covered  the  lower  part 
of  his  countenance.  His  head  was  firmly  poised, 
and  carried  with  the  air  of  one  accustomed  to 
absolute  mastery.  His  brow,  displayed  by  the 
removal  of  his  helmet,  was  wide  and  high. 


28  ALBRECHT. 

But  what  most  impressed  Erna  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  stranger  knight  were  his  mag- 
nificent eyes,  which  were  like  no  others  she 
had  ever  seen.  They  were  brown  and  liquid, 
with  that  glance  at  once  appealing  and  de- 
fiant, pathetic  and  fierce,  which  one  .  sees  in 
the  eyes  of  a  stag  that  proudly  leads  the  herd. 
One  perceived  that  they  could  upon  occasion 
kindle  into  splendid  rage,  although  they  were 
capable  of  looks  of  such  wistful  tenderness, 
such  longing,  such  melting  desire.  As  Erna 
advanced  down  the  rush-strewn  hall  to  meet 
the  guest,  it  almost  seemed  to  her  that  his 
glance  drew  her  on,  so  strongly  was  she  im- 
pressed ;  and  yet  when  he  spoke,  his  voice  to 
her  was  more  strangely  sweet  than  even  his 
wonderful  eyes. 

Father  Christopher  announced  the  new-comer 
as  Baron  Albrecht  von  Waldstein ;  and  he 
added,  with  a  touch  of  the  gossip,  that  the 
knight's  home  lay  in  the  Niederwasser  valley, 
to  the  northward. 

The  baron  himself  explained  his  presence  at 
the  castle. 

"  One  of  my  retainers,"  he  said,  "  was  this 
morning,  as  we  were  riding  toward  the  south, 
smitten  with  a  strange  illness.  I  feared  that 
we  should  leave  his  bones  to  bleach  in  the 
forest  for  lack  of  a  leech ;  and  he  himself  had 


HOW   ONE   CAME.  29 

either  small  courage  or  strength  to  ride  on. 
Fortunately  his  fellow  knew  that  we  were  near 
Rittenberg,  and  I  have  ventured  to  bring  him 
here,  in  the  hope  that  we  might  for  a  little  find 
shelter  and  the  aid  of  a  leech." 

"  He  shall  be  looked  to,"  Erna  answered 
with  a  gentle  gravity  which  became  her  well. 
"  Our  leech  is  not  unskilful,  and  his  best  is  at 
thy  service." 

"  I  thank  thee,"  the  baron  responded,  bow- 
ing profoundly.  "  It  were  a  matter  of  much 
inconvenience  to  be  left  with  but  one  man-at- 
arms  thus  far  from  home." 

"Thou  must,  too,  be  concerned  at  the  suf- 
fering of  the  poor  man,"  the  countess  returned. 
"  I  am  always  unhappy  if  one  of  my  people  is 
ill.  They  seem  so  much  like  animals  in  their 
pain,  and  as  if  they  could  not  understand  what 
had  happened  to  them.  It  is  very  pitiful." 

The  baron  regarded  her  with  a  look  of  in- 
quiry on  his  handsome  face. 

"  Of  course  one  cares  for  his  servants,"  he 
assented,  "  since  he  can  so  ill  get  on  without 
them." 

Had  her  cousin,  Count  Stephen,  the  beat  of 
whose  horse's  hoofs  had  so  lately  died  upon 
the  air,  said  these  words,  Erna  would  doubt- 
less have  regarded  them  as  shockingly  heart- 
less; but  now  so  strongly  had  the  appearance 


30  ALBRECHT. 

of  this  stranger  won  upon  her,  that  she  only 
smiled  and  shook  her  head. 

"  Of  a  truth  they  have  not  our  feelings,"  she 
said ;  "  but  after  all,  they  are  yet  human  be- 
ings. Wert  thou  in  the  forest  through  the 
night?"  she  added.  "Thou  canst  not  have 
come  far  this  morning,  especially  riding  with 
one  who  was  ill." 

"  We  were  in  the  forest  all  night,"  the  baron 
responded.  "  We  made  shift  to  shelter  us  in 
a  cave  that  we  chanced  upon.  It  was  the 
sickness  of  the  man  which  prevented  that  we 
rode  further  yester-e'en,  till  we  had  found 
lodgings." 

"  But  hadst  thou  no  fear  of  the  wood-sprites?  " 
Erna  asked. 

"  Nay,"  replied  Baron  Albrecht,  "  they  troub- 
led us  not ;  though  we  were  aware  of  them 
as  they  passed  us  by,"  he  added,  smiling. 

"Thou  art  a  bold  knight,"  she  murmured 
beneath  her  breath. 

"  Truly  thou  art  favored  of  heaven,"  Father 
Christopher  said,  "  if  the  wood-sprites  can  do 
thee  no  harm." 

The  countess  looked  at  the  stranger  with 
admiration  and  astonishment.  Bold  as  were 
the  knights  who  had  made  the  name  of  her 
family  respected  far  and  near,  they  had  not 
been  free  from  the  fear  of  the  wild  folk  of 


HOW   ONE   CAME.  31 

the  wood,  and  it  was  with  a  thrill  that  she 
looked  at  the  stranger  knight  as  he  avowed 
his  fearlessness. 

"  At  least  now,"  she  said,  "  we  will  do  what 
is  in  our  power  for  thee,  whether  it  be  to  pro- 
tect thee  against  the  dangers  of  the  forest  or 
to  offer  thee  rest  and  refreshment." 

She  gave  the  necessary  orders,  and  passed 
down  the  hall  again  the  way  she  had  come. 
As  she  ascended  the  winding  stair  which  led 
up  toward  her  chamber,  she  turned  and  looked 
backward.  The  Baron  von  Waldstein  stood 
where  she  had  left  him,  and  his  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  her  retreating  figure  with  a  gaze 
which  made  her  thrill  with  mingled  confusion 
and  pleasure.  She  turned  away  her  face  with 
a  blush  which  she  could  not  repress,  and 
hastened  on. 

In  her  chamber  Erna  found  her  great-aunt, 
all  alive  with  eager  curiosity. 

"Who  is  he?"  Lady  Adelaide  demanded. 
"  Elsa  says  he  is  the  handsomest  man  alive, 
and  that  his  jewels  are  wonderful.  Is  it  so? 
Didst  thou  notice  them?" 

"  He  is  certainly  handsome,"  Erna  answered. 
"  As  for  his  jewels,  I  do  not  think  I  noticed 
them ;  but  now  that  thou  speakest  of  it,  I  do 
remember  that  there  was  a  splendid  red  fiery 
gem  on  the  front  of  his  corselet.  It  shone 


32  ALBRECHT. 

so  that  it  caught  my  eye  from  the  top  of  the 
stair  as  I  went  down." 

"  It  must  be  a  carbuncle,"  the  old  lady  re- 
sponded. "  He  must  be  a  knight  of  much 
consequence ;  and  yet  I  cannot  remember  that 
I  ever  heard  of  the  Von  Waldsteins  in  my  life. 
I  wonder  if  I  have  ever  seen  any  of  the  family. 
How  does  he  look?" 

"  He  looks,"  replied  her  niece  absently,  "  like 
a  woodland  god." 

Her  eyes,  as  she  spoke,  fell  on  the  scroll  she 
had  been  reading  earlier  in  the  morning.  The 
place  had  been  the  passage  in  which  Saint 
Cuthbert  warns  against  the  snares  of  appear- 
ances. She  sighed  and  turned  away  from  the 
eager  questioning  of  her  companion  to  take 
again  the  pious  scroll ;  but  when  the  Lady 
Adelaide,  grumbling  that  her  curiosity  could 
not  be  gratified,  had  left  the  chamber,  the 
parchment  slipped  unheeded  to  the  floor,  and 
the  countess  looked  out  over  the  undulating 
waves  of  the  pine  forest  with  eyes  that  saw 
not,  so  deeply  was  she  absorbed  in  reverie. 
The  sage  words  of  Saint  Cuthbert  were  for- 
gotten, and  she  dreamed  of  the  splendid  knight 
of  whom  she  knew  nothing  but  what  was  to 
be  learned  from  those  appearances  against 
the  deceitfulness  of  which  the  page  she  had 
been  reading  admonished  in  vain. 


HOW  THE  KNIGHT  SANG.  33 


III 

HOW  THE   KNIGHT  SANG. 

THE  Lady  Adelaide  found  small  satisfaction 
for  her  curiosity  so  far  as  her  niece  was 
concerned,  but  she  set  her  damsel  Elsa  to  col- 
lect whatever  information  might  be  obtained 
from  the  knight's  little  retinue.  Elsa,  she  knew 
from  experience,  might  be  trusted  to  gather 
whatever  gossip  was  afloat  about  the  castle, 
and  to  repeat  it  in  a  lively  and  entertaining 
fashion.  But  on  the  present  occasion  even  the 
skilful  Elsa  failed  to  elicit  much  from  the  taci- 
turn men-at-arms  of  Baron  von  Waldstein,  and 
she  could  in  the  end  report  to  her  mistress 
little  beyond  the  fact  that  the  baron  was  trav- 
elling southward,  though  whether  to  join  the 
court  or  army  of  the  Great  Emperor  or  for 
some  private  expedition  did  not  appear. 

Of  his  wealth  there  could  be  no  question 
when  the  very  bridles  of  his  horses  were  set 
with  jewels  over  which  the  eyes  of  the  Ritten- 
berg  servants  grew  large  and  round  with  as- 
tonishment and  admiration ;  while  from,  the 
3 


34  ALBRECHT. 

respect  of  his  men  it  was  evident  that  he  was 
accustomed  to  being  served  as  are  only  those 
who  are  born  with  the  right  to  command.  The 
sick  retainer  had  under  the  care  of  the  leech 
recovered  somewhat  from  the  severity  of  his 
first  attack,  and  his  disorder  had  been  pro- 
nounced nothing  contagious,  —  a  point  upon 
which  the  Lady  Adelaide  had  been  much  ex- 
ercised,—  with  the  opinion  of  the  leech  that 
it  would  be  necessary  for  him  to  rest  a  couple 
of  days  before  continuing  his  journey. 

Lady  Adelaide  was  forced  to  be  content  with 
this  scant  information  until  the  assembling  of 
the  family  at  dinner  gave  her  an  opportunity 
of  observing  the  stranger  for  herself.  She  came 
into  the  hall  with  her  niece  prepared  to  subject 
the  guest  to  a  searching  examination,  such  as 
she  knew  herself  to  be  abundantly  able  to  con- 
duct; but  for  almost  the  only  time  in  her  life 
the  ancient  dame  found  herself  from  the  first 
moment  so  completely  under  the  spell  of  the 
stranger  that  she  gave  herself  up  unquestion- 
ingly  to  the  charm  of  his  presence  and  his 
conversation,  without  even  an  attempt  to  force 
him  to  give  an  account  of  himself. 

Nor  was  she  alone  in  this  infatuation.  Both 
Father  Christopher  and  the  Countess  Erna  were 
as  strongly  impressed  with  the  singular  fasci- 
nation of  the  baron.  There  was  about  him  a 


HOW  THE   KNIGHT   SANG.  35 

contagious  joyousness,  an  exhilarating  fulness 
of  life,  as  if  he  had  drunk  from  some  fountain 
of  youth,  and  shed  about  him  the  influence  of 
his  superabundant  vitality.  Doubtless  the  un- 
usual vigor  and  manly  beauty  of  the  knight 
contributed  much  to  this  result;  but  back  of 
these  seemed  to  lie  some  rare  and  powerful 
quality  in  the  nature  of  the  man  himself  which 
was  more  effective  than  either.  It  would  have 
been  impossible  to  analyze  his  charm,  but  it 
was  also  impossible  to  resist  it. 

The  talk  at  the  table  was  so  animated  and 
full  of  frank  gayety  that  they  lingered  by  com- 
mon though  unspoken  consent  far  beyond  the 
usual  time.  The  baron  had  throughout  ad- 
dressed himself  to  the  whole  company,  seldom 
speaking  directly  to  Erna,  although  he  now 
and  then  appealed  to  the  Lady  Adelaide  or 
to  Father  Christopher;  and  yet  the  countess 
was  subtly  conscious  that  in  all  he  said  there 
was  a  secret  intention  of  interesting  herself. 
She  blushed  as  this  thought  came  to  her  after 
she  had  retired  to  her  chamber  and  sat  over 
her  embroidery,  while  the  priest  and  the  knight 
were  left  to  entertain  each  other.  So  unsophis- 
ticated was  she  that  this  thought  seemed  al- 
most unmaidenly,  and  she  contradicted  it  as 
soon  as  it  showed  itself  in  her  mind. 

She  was  a  maid  with   soul  as  white  as  the 


36  ALBRECHT. 

unspotted  ermine.  She  had  been  bred  under 
the. eye  of  Father  Christopher,  —  a  priest  who 
was  also  a  man,  and  one  of  rare  insight.  She 
was  as  ignorant  of  evil  as  one  must  be  who  had 
lived  ever  in  seclusion,  and  her  temperament 
naturally  inclined  toward  piety.  Something 
of  an  education  she  had  received  from  the 
priest.  She  could  read ;  and  there  were  in 
the  castle  several  pious  books,  most  of  them, 
it  is  to  be  feared,  looted  by  the  late  Count 
von  Rittenberg  on  the  day  of  some  victory  of 
the  Great  Emperor  in  the  south  at  which  he 
had  assisted.  Over  these  parchments,  mostly 
religious  works,  although  a  wicked  volume  of 
the  heathen  poet  Ovid  had  somehow  chanced 
among  them,  Erna  passed  much  time.  The 
brilliant  scroll  of  Ovid,  with  its  profane  pictures, 
at  which  she  had  never  looked  more  than  in  a 
single  glance  that  showed  her  what  they  were 
like,  she  had  hidden  away  after  a  consultation 
with  Father  Christopher  whether  it  should  not 
be  destroyed  despite  its  value. 

The  colored  threads  of  her  embroidery  that 
afternoon  were  scarcely  more  bright  than  the 
thoughts  which  floated  through  Erna's  brain 
as  she  sat  among  her  maidens,  directing  their 
work;  and  yet  in  her  mind  was  no  thought 
which  was  consciously  different  from  those  of 
the  day  before  or  of  all  the  days  that  had 


HOW  THE   KNIGHT   SANG.  37 

preceded;  only  that  now  suddenly  all  those 
days  appeared,  as  she  looked  back,  somehow 
colorless  and  dull.  She  did  not  say  to  herself 
that  the  coming  of  the  stranger  knight  had 
suddenly  put  new  meaning  into  life,  but  her 
secret  heart  knew  it,  albeit  she  had  yet  to 
understand  what  her  heart  felt. 

When  that  night  she  came  into  the  great 
hall  for  supper,  a  lily-white  maid  in  soul  as 
well  as  robe,  the  eyes  of  the  baron  glowed  as 
he  looked  at  her.  There  was  in  his  glance  an 
adoration  such  as  a  noble  dog  might  give  to, 
his  mistress,  a  tender  appeal  as  of  one  who 
beseeches  a  higher  being  to  take  pity  upon 
him ;  and  Father  Christopher,  who  observed 
closely  whatever  concerned  the  countess,  sighed 
as  he  looked,  and  secretly  shook  his  head. 

The  talk  at  supper  touched  upon  hunting, 
and  the  eyes  of  the  baron  sparkled  as  he  said : 

"  Ah  !  when  the  wild  boar  turns  on  thee,  and 
there  is  only  thy  spear-head  between  thee  and 
iis  tusks,  that  is  pleasure!  That  sends  the 
blood  through  one's  veins,  and  makes  the 
heart  tingle !  " 

Erna  shuddered. 

"  I  cannot  understand  how  it  can  be  pleasure," 
she  said,  "  to  put  one's  life  in  danger,  or  to  take 
the  life  of  a  beast  that  has  never  injured  thee." 

Baron  Albrecht  regarded  her  in  some  surprise. 


38  ALBRECHT. 

"I  have  never  thought  of  that,"  he  returned 
frankly.  "Why  should  one  consider  the 
beasts?  They  are  made  for  our  sport,  are 
they  not?" 

"  I  know  you  men  think  so,"  she  responded 
with  a  smile;  "but  I  cannot  bear  that  they 
should  suffer  for  my  amusement." 

The  guest  still  looked  puzzled,  and  appar- 
ently was  on  the  point  of  questioning  further, 
when  Lady  Adelaide,  evidently  fearing  lest  the 
words  of  her  niece  might  offend  the  baron  or 
give  him  the  idea  that  Erna  was  full  of  strange 
fancies,  said  quickly : 

"  And  yet  thou  canst  sing  very  prettily  of  the 
hunting.  Let  us  get  nearer  the  fire,  and  thou 
shalt  sing  for  us  now.  Beshrew  me,  but  this 
storm  is  enough  to  freeze  one's  bones." 

The  night  had  indeed  darkened  into  a  storm 
such  as  it  was  unusual  to  experience  at  that 
time  of  year.  Outside  the  castle  turrets  they 
could  hear  the  wind  and  rain  beating,  and  all 
the  wild  uproar  of  the  tempest,  as  it  howled 
and  raged  along  over  the  wood.  They  drew 
close  about  the  broad  hearth,  where  a  cheerful 
fire  had  been  lighted,  despite  the  fact  that  the 
month  was  June ;  and  in  accordance  with  her 
aunt's  wish,  Erna  took  her  lute  and  sang  a 
gay  little  ditty  in  praise  of  hunting. 

"I  do  not   mean   it,"  she  protested  as  she 


HOW  THE  KNIGHT   SANG.  39 

ended,  and  smiled  in  pleasant  fashion,  as  if 
it  were  his  opinion  which  she  was  anxious 
should  be  set  right. 

"  Perhaps,"  Father  Christopher  said,  "  thou 
also  canst  sing,  Sir  Baron?  If  so,  it  will  de- 
light us  to  hear  thee." 

The  request  was  warmly  seconded  by  Lady 
Adelaide.  Erna  said  nothing. 

"Is  it  thy  wish  that  I  should  sing?"  the 
stranger  knight  asked,  turning  toward  her. 

She  flushed  a  little  as  she  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  and  then  said  to  herself  that  her 
confusion  arose  from  the  fact  that  there  was  so 
seldom  any  need  to  consult  her  wish  in  such  a 
matter  that  the  attention  seemed  unusual. 

The  knight  took  the  lute,  which  in  his  large 
and  strong  hands  looked  absurdly  out  of  place, 
yet  which  he  handled  with  a  great  deal  of  dex- 
terity, and  after  a  brief  prelude  began  in  a  voice 
of  wonderful  richness  to  sing 

THE   KOBOLD'S  SONG. 

The  kobold's  life  is  full  of  glee. 
For  him  the  forest  is  made ; 
For  him  the  leaf  swells  on  the  tree, 

The  fount  wells  in  the  glade. 
Well  he  knows  every  nook, 
Every  pool  where  the  brook 
Breeds  him  trout  in  the  sun  or  the  shade ; 


40  ALBRECHT. 

Where  the  wild  berries  grow, 

Where  the  cool  waters  flow  ; 

Where  dappled  deer  hide  them 
With  sleek  fawns  beside  them  ; 
And  where  the  wood-dove's  eggs  are  laid. 

He  knows  the  hidden  mountain  mine 

Where  wondrous  jewels  lie ; 
The  caves  in  which  their  glorious  shine 

Dazzles  his  feasting  eye  ; 
He  heaps  up  the  red  gold 
Till  his  treasures  untold 
Would  the  souls  of  a  multitude  buy  ! 
All  the  wealth  of  the  earth 
Is  his  dower  from  birth. 

Who  can  strength  with  him  measure  ? 
Who  baffle  his  pleasure? 
What  kings  with  his  riches  can  vie  ? 

When  winds  rush  whistling  through  the  wood, 

The  kobold's  merry  heart  bounds ; 
For  well  he  knows  the  bugle  good 

That  calls  up  horse  and  hounds. 
The  Wild  Huntsman  rides  past 
On  the  wings  of  the  blast, 
And  the  forest  with  tumult  resounds  j 
The  blithe  wood-elves  are  there, 
With  the  sprites  of  the  air ; 
And  as  faster  and  faster 
They  follow  their  master, 
He  joins  in  their  turbulent  rounds  ! 


HOW  THE  KNIGHT  SANG.  41 

The  baron  would  have  sung  further  in  his 
wild  praises  of  the  life  of  the  race  of  forest 
sprites  with  whom  his  verse  dealt,  but  he  was 
interrupted  by  the  Lady  Adelaide,  who  crossed 
herself  fervently,  exclaiming: 

"Now  beshrew  me,  Sir  Baron,  but  it  is  ill  to 
speak  of  the  Wild  Huntsman  on  a  night  like 
this  when  he  may  be  abroad.  Heaven  send  he 
be  not  near  enough  to  the  castle  to  have  heard 
your  song !  " 

The  singer  stared  at  her  an  instant  in  silent 
amazement,  and  then  broke  into  a  peal  of 
golden-throated  laughter,  which  was  hardly  as 
respectful  as  was  the  due  of  a  person  of  the 
age  and  quality  of  the  old  dame. 

"  By  my  sword,"  he  cried,  "  it  is,  then,  really 
true  that  thou  art  afraid  of  the  Wild  Huntsman  ! 
I  give  thee  my  word  that  he  is  far  too  much 
engaged  in  his  pleasure  to  bother  his  head 
about  what  may  be  said  of  him." 

It  was  the  turn  of  the  company  to  stare  at 
the  speaker,  who  seemed  to  realize  that  his 
words  might  seem  strange  to  them,  for  in- 
stantly he  hastened  to  apologize,  and  laying 
aside  the  lute  endeavored  to  give  a  new  turn 
to  the  conversation  by  a  reference  to  the  talk 
which  had  taken  place  at  table.  But  the  priest, 
with  a  gentle  smile,  brought  him  back  to  the 
song. 


42  ALBRECHT. 

"  It  is  a  heathenish  ditty,  Sir  Baron,"  he 
said,  "  with  which  thou  hast  favored  us,  if 
thou  wilt  allow  me  to  say  so.  The  treasures  of 
the  little  men  of  the  hills  are  doubtless  mighty, 
if  half  that  is  said  of  them  be  true ;  but  when , 
they  boast  that  their  gold  can  buy  the  souls 
of  men,  they  claim  too  much." 

The  guest  regarded  the  speaker  with  a  new 
look  of  interest  and  respect;  but  as  he  made 
no  reply,  Father  Christopher  continued: 

"  It  is  said  that  often  the  little  men,  and  the 
Devil  who  is  in  league  with  them,  have  tried  to 
entice  men  to  barter  their  souls  for  gold ;  but 
even  if  they  succeed,  it  is  the  Evil  One  to 
whom  the  soul  goes,  and  the  kobolds  are  no 
richer." 

"  That  is  indeed  true,"  the  knight  responded 
gravely.  "  The  soul  is  a  curious  thing,  and 
the  kobolds  can  have  little  idea  of  what  it  is 
like.  Indeed,"  he  continued,  after  a  moment's 
pause  in  which  the  others  regarded  him  in 
wonder,  "dost  thou  not  suppose,  Father,  that 
a  kobold  might  think  he  were  better  off  for 
escaping  a  responsibility  so  heavy  as  that  of  a 
soul?  " 

The  priest  looked  at  him  in  gentle  reproof, 
while  the  Lady  Adelaide  again  crossed  herself 
with  the  air  of  being  not  a  little  scandalized. 

"  Perhaps  a  kobold,  who  has  no  soul,  might 


HOW  THE   KNIGHT   SANG.  43 

have  such  a  thought,"  Father  Christopher  said ; 
"  but  it  is  strange  that  it  should  come  into 
Christian  heads  like  ours,  my  son.  It  grieves 
me  that  thou  shouldst  harbor  such  fancies." 

"  Nay,"  interposed  Erna,  softly,  "  I  am  sure 
our  guest  meant  no  harm.  To  beings  so  un- 
happy as  not  to  know  the  glory  of  having  a 
soul,  very  likely  it  has  been  kindly  permitted 
not  to  realize  how  melancholy  their  case  is. 
They  are  like  the  animals." 

The  eyes  of  the  knight  were  fixed  on  her 
face  with  an  intense  gaze  of  wistful  longing, 
and  had  her  earnestness  been  less  she  must 
have  blushed  under  their  fire.  As  it  was,  she 
remembered,  after  she  had  lain  down  upon 
her  bed,  the  look  which  the  baron  bent  upon 
her  as  she  thus  spoke  in  his  behalf.  She  rose 
with  the  words,  and  after  bidding  the  guest  good- 
night, withdrew  with  Lady  Adelaide,  leaving 
the  priest  to  sit  over  the  dying  fire  with  the 
baron  as  long  as  suited  their  mutual  pleasure. 


44  ALBRECHT. 


IV 
HOW  HE  REMAINED  TO  WOO. 

THE  stay  of  the  Baron  von  Waldstein  at  the 
castle  prolonged  itself  from  day  to  day. 
At  first  there  was  the  continued  illness  of  the 
man-at-arms,  which  did  not  yield  to  the  reme- 
dies of  the  leech  as  quickly  as  was  to  be 
expected ;  then  there  was  one  pretext  after 
another ;  and  in  the  end  there  was  no  pretext 
at  all,  save  that  the  guest  was  loath  to  depart 
and  the  folk  at  Rittenberg  wished  him  to 
remain. 

He  was  like  a  great,  sunny,  jovial  comrade  in 
the  castle ;  and  his  presence  seemed  to  change 
the  whole  atmosphere  of  the  household.  Be- 
fore his  coming  the  Lady  Adelaide  had  seemed 
to  be  the  dominant  spirit  because  she  most 
asserted  herself.  The  gentle,  quiet  chatelaine, 
absorbed  in  the  half-mystical  contemplation 
which  had  been  encouraged  by  the  life  she  led 
and  nourished  upon  the  pious  writings  that 
formed  her  little  library,  had  allowed  the  reins 
of  government  to  rest  undisturbed  in  the  hands 


HOW   HE   REMAINED  TO   WOO.  45 

of  her  aunt;  seldom  interfering  unless  the  mat- 
ter were  really  serious.  She  was  known  among 
the  few  peasants  that  were  scattered  through 
the  neighborhood  as  the  "  White  Lady,"  and  the 
charcoal-burners  of  the  forest  would  almost 
have  said  their  prayers  to  her  with  as  much 
confidence  and  reverence  as  to  the  Holy  Virgin 
herself,  so  pure  and  saintly  did  she  seem  to 
them. 

As  to  Father  Christopher,  he  was  of  a  nature 
too  kindly  and  easy-going  to  interfere  with  the 
domination  of  anybody.  The  good  priest  was 
full  of  simple  faith,  of  genial,  sane  belief  in  God 
and  man;  he  had  confidence  in  the  higher 
nature  which  he  believed  to  lurk  in  every 
human  creature,  no  matter  how  hidden  it  might 
have  become  by  the  overlaying  of  worldliness 
or  of  sin  ;  while  in  all  desperate  cases  he  fell 
back  upon  an  implicit  trust  in  the  efficacy  of 
the  Church,  —  an  unshaken  rock  in  the  midst  of 
the  tempests  which  he  had  seen  rend  the  whole 
world  in  the  troublous  times  in  which  he  lived. 

The  countess  would  have  found  it  impossible 
to  define  the  pleasure  she  experienced  in  the 
society  of  Baron  Albrecht,  had  she  attempted 
to  express  it,  but  she  went  no  further  than  to 
say  to  herself  and  to  her  aunt  that  he  was  by 
far  the  most  pleasing  man  she  had  ever  seen. 
The  careful  student  of  events,  had  such  an  one 


46  ALBRECHT. 

been  present,  might  have  found  food  for  thought 
in  the  mutual  influence  which  the  hostess  and 
her  guest  exercised  on  each  other.  No  one 
could  see  them  together  and  fail  to  appreciate 
the  fact  that  Erna  affected  the  baron  pro- 
foundly. He  had  often,  it  was  true,  the  appear- 
ance of  failing  fully  to  understand  much  that 
she  said  and  did,  but  he  evidently  regarded  her 
with  a  feeling  akin  to  reverence,  and  it  was  even 
possible  to  perceive  that  through  his  interest  in 
what  she  did  and  was  he  grew  more  thoughtful 
and  earnest. 

The  effect  of  the  stranger  upon  Erna  was 
even  more  marked,  perhaps  because  it  showed 
itself  in  outward  acts  rather  than  by  the  signs 
of  inward  changes.  She  took  up  various  hab- 
its and  sports  which  were  calculated  directly 
to  please  Von  Waldstein ;  riding  with  him 
through  the  forest,  and  even  standing  to  watch 
him  setting  out  for  the  hunt,  a  pastime  which 
she  had  hitherto  held  as  cruel,  although  from 
old  the  Von  Rittenbergs  had  been  famous 
hunters.  The  alteration  in  her  was  subtle,  but 
it  was  real.  Father  Christopher  viewed  it  with 
mingled  surprise  and  doubt.  Lady  Adelaide, 
on  the  other  hand,  was  naturally  delighted  with 
a  change  which  brought  her  niece  more  near  to 
her  own  worldly  views ;  and  while  she  was  too 
clever  to  praise  openly  the  course  of  Erna,  she 


HOW   HE   REMAINED   TO   WOO.  47 

found  ways  of  lending  her  aid  to  the  helping 
forward  of  the  work  which  the  mere  presence 
of  Baron  Albrecht  seemed  to  be  effecting. 

One  lovely  summer  day,  when  all  the  forest 
was  filled  with  sweet  breath  of  balsamic  odors, 
the  perfume  of  flowers,  and  the  gentle  coolness 
of  the  breeze  which  brought  both  to  the  riders 
as  they  passed  along  the  paths  of  the  wood, 
Countess  Erna  and  Baron  Albrecht  rode  through 
its  ways,  now  full  of  golden  sunshine  and  now 
dim  with  delicious  shadow,  to  a  mountain  tarn, 
set  in  the  wooded  hills  like  a  gleaming  gem. 
Blue  as  a  sapphire  under  the  clear  sky  stretched 
the  lake,  all  the  surrounding  hills  reflected  in 
its  surface,  while  along  its  shores  the  wild 
flowers  bloomed  in  rich  profusion;  the  clus- 
tering primrose,  the  dazzling  white  thistle,  now 
fading  beneath  the  fervid  suns  of  summer,  and 
the  blue  forget-me-nots,  dear  to  lovers. 

The  ride  had  been  a  long  one ;  and  when  the 
lake  was  reached  the  countess  dismounted  from 
her  palfrey  to  rest.  She  seated  herself  upon  a 
bank  of  greensward  where  she  could  overlook 
the  smooth  blue  lake,  and  Baron  Albrecht 
threw  himself  upon  the  ground  at  her  feet, 
looking  rather  at  her  than  at  the  water.  Behind 
them  the  wind  murmured  in  the  pine-tops, 
chanting  the  song  which  is  never  done,  but 
which  rises  ever  from  the  heart  of  the  Schwarz- 


48  ALBRECHT. 

wald  as  the  wail  of  the  ocean  rises  continually 
from  its  beating  waves :  the  yearning  of  the 
wild  races  of  beings  who  live  and  die  in  its 
mysterious  recesses;  the  cries  of  the  beasts 
who  perish  without  understanding  the  strange 
secrets  hidden  in  the  shadows  of  the  wood,  se- 
crets which  men  feel  with  awe,  but  which  even 
they  cannot  fathom. 

Erna  was  conscious  of  the  spell  of  the  forest, 
and  the  tones  of  the  song  in  the  pine-tops  rang 
in  her  ears  with  powerful  appealing;  but  she 
was  secure  in  the  protecting  presence  of  her 
companion,  and  she  was  more  deeply  still  con- 
scious of  the  earnestness  of  his  gaze.  So  closely 
did  Albrecht  regard  her  that  without  compre- 
hending her  own  feelings,  she  began  to  be  em- 
barrassed ;  and  at  last  to  cover  her  confusion 
she  said : 

"  Didst  thou  know  that  where  we  see  a  lake 
there  was  once  a  noble  convent,  surrounded  by 
beautiful  gardens  and  even  with  fair  pleasure- 
grounds?  " 

The  knight  looked  from  his  companion  to  the 
blue  tarn  below  them. 

"  But  where?  "  he  asked. 

"  Where  the  lake  is.  It  was  the  richest  and 
the  most  influential  convent  in  all  the  Ober- 
Schwarzwald.  All  the  nuns  were  of  noble  birth, 
and  all  had  brought  with  them  rich  dowries  to 


HOW   HE   REMAINED  TO   WOO.  49 

the  convent.  But  they  were  wicked  nuns ;  for 
Father  Christopher  says  that  even  nuns  and 
monks  may  be  wicked.  They  feasted  and 
sported  and  flew  falcons,  and  there  was  only 
one  in  all  the  convent,  a  poor  little  novice 
whose  betrothed  had  been  killed,  and  whose 
heart  was  broken,  that  was  not  given  over  to 
sin." 

"Is  it  a  sin,  then,  to  be  happy?"  asked 
Albrecht,  smiling  up  at  her  from  his  station  at 
her  feet. 

"  Oh,  no ;  not  for  us.  But  they  were  nuns, 
vowed  to  Heaven." 

"  I  never  could  understand,"  he  began  with 
a  puzzled  face ;  then  he  broke  off  suddenly. 
"  No  matter  !  "  he  said.  "  Go  on  with  thy  story. 
What  became  of  the  convent?" 

"The  Lady  Abbess,"  Erna  continued,  "was 
worst  of  all  there;  and  on  her  birth-night  she 
made  a  great  feast  for  all  the  nuns.  They  sat 
and  drank  wine,  and  out  of  doors  there  was  a 
bitter,  bitter  storm.  And  just  at  midnight  there 
came  a  knocking  at  the  gate.  The  Lady  Ab- 
bess, flushed  with  wine,  told  the  little  novice, 
who  would  neither  eat  nor  drink  rTerself,  to  go 
and  see  who  was  there.  So  the  little  novice 
went,  and  found  an  old,  old  man,  all  drenched 
with  the  rain,  and  weak  with  hunger  and  cold. 
So  she  went  to  the  Lady  Abbess,  and  begged 
4 


5O  ALBRECHT. 

that  she  might  be  allowed  to  let  the  old  man  in, 
lest  he  perish  with  cold  and  hunger  before 
morning." 

"Why  should  she  care?"  the  knight  asked, 
as  Erna  paused  and  looked  over  the  dark- 
blue  lake  as  if  she  could  see  the  scene  she 
described. 

"  Oh,  I  told  thee  that  she  was  not  wicked  like 
the  rest." 

"  But  would  it  be  wicked  not  to  care  for  a 
worthless,  broken-down  old  man  that  one  never 
saw  before  ?  " 

The  countess  smiled  upon  him. 

"When  thou  askest  me  questions  like  that," 
she  responded,  "  I  know  that  thou  art  laughing 
at  me  or  trying  to  tease  me." 

A  strange  look  flitted  across  the  face  of  the 
baron,  but  he  only  replied  by  a  smile. 

"  But  the  Lady  Abbess,"  went  on  Erna,  de- 
termined to  finish  the  tale  she  had  begun, 
"would  not  allow  the  gates  to  be  opened. 
'  Thou  mayest  throw  him  down  thy  bread,  if  thou 
choosest,'  she  told  the  little  novice ;  '  but  thou 
wilt  get  no  more  in  its  place.'  So  the  little 
novice  wrapped  the  bread  up  in  the  only 
blanket  she  had  for  her  bed,  and  threw  it  down 
to  the  old  pilgrim,  and  then  she  had  to  shut 
the  window  and  leave  him  there  in  the  cold. 
That  very  hour  the  water  began  to  roll  into  the 


HOW   HE   REMAINED   TO   WOO.  51 

valley,  though  where  it  came  from  no  one  could 
tell ;  and  it  rose,  and  rose,  and  rose.  And  the 
wicked  nuns  ran  to  the  top  of  their  towers,  but 
it  was  of  no  use,  for  the  water  rose  over  those 
until  they  were  all  drowned,  and  there  was  this 
lake." 

"  And  did  n't  even  the  little  novice  escape?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  there  came  a  boat,  shining  all 
like  gold,  and  took  the  little  novice  off  of  the 
top  of  the  tower ;  but  when  the  others  tried  to 
get  into  it,  it  glided  away  and  left  them." 

She  crossed  herself  as  she  finished.  Albrecht 
raised  his  eyes  from  the  blue  lake  to  the  blue 
sky  above  them,  and  sighed,  a  sign  of  sadness 
Erna  had  never  seen  in  him  before. 

"  Why  dost  thou  sigh?  "  she  asked  him. 

"  Because  thou  hast  taught  me  to,"  he  an- 
swered, with  the  wistful  look  of  a  loving  animal 
in  his  eyes. 

Then  he  laughed  gleefully. 

"  Should  not  one  sigh  for  the  poor  drowned 
nuns?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  Erna  said  gravely;  "they  lost  their 
souls." 

"  Always  their  souls,"  her  companion  re- 
sponded impulsively.  "Why  is  it  that  it  is 
always  the  soul  of  which  one  speaks?" 

"  Because,"  she  answered,  with  the  same  air 
she  would  have  worn  had  his  question  been  a 


52  ALBRECHT. 

reasonable  one,  "  the  soul  is  all ;  it  is  this  which 
makes  us  different  from  the  animals." 

"  And  the  nixies,"  he  added ;  "  and  the  un- 
dines, and  the  kobolds." 

"  Yes,"  she  said  gravely.  She  was  silent  a 
moment,  and  then  added :  "I  do  not  know  if 
it  is  right,  but  Father  Christopher  thinks  it  is 
no  harm;  I  have  always  pitied  the  nixies  and 
the  kobolds.  They  are  not  so  bad ;  and  it  is 
not  their  fault  that  they  have  no  souls,  and  that 
they  cannot  be  saved." 

"  No,"  he  assented  soberly,  "  it  is  certainly 
not  their  fault.  Hast  thou  never  heard  it  said," 
he  went  on,  "  that  if  one  of  them  marries  a 
mortal,  he  would  win  a  soul?" 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  ;  "  but  Father  Christopher 
does  not  believe  that  that  is  true." 

"  But  if  it  were,"  he  began,  "  wouldst  thou  — 

He  broke  off  suddenly,  and  sprang  up. 

"  Come,"  he  cried,  with  his  infectious  laugh, 
"  thou  art  making  me  as  solemn  as  an  owl.  Did 
I  talk  in  this  sombre  fashion  when  I  came  to 
Rittenberg?" 

She  did  not  answer  save  by  a  smile.  She 
was  aware  that  the  knight  had  changed  since 
he  had  been  at  the  castle,  although  she  did  not 
realize  what  the  alteration  might  mean.  She 
had  herself  changed  too  much  in  the  same  time 
to  be  able  to  appreciate  the  subtile  difference 


HOW   HE   REMAINED  TO   WOO.  53 

between  what  he  now  was  and  what  he  had 
been  on  his  arrival;  and  she  was  too  well 
content  with  whatever  he  was  to  study  deeply 
over  the  question  of  the  effect  of  her  influence 
upon  him.  She  rose  from  the  grassy  mound 
on  which  she  had  been  sitting,  and  soon  they 
were  on  their  homeward  way  through  the 
forest. 

The  day  was  wasting  as  they  neared  the 
castle,  and  already  in  the  shadows  of  the  forest 
the  tree-trunks  were  black  and  dim.  The  way 
wound  through  the  solemn  pine-wood,  rising 
and  falling  as  it  crossed  the  hills.  Far  above 
them  they  could  see  the  peaks  reddened  by  the 
rays  of  the  late  sun,  while  they  rode  forward  in 
the  dimness  of  the  bridle-path  below.  Now 
and  then  some  sudden  turn  in  the  way  brought 
them  to  the  crest  of  an  elevation  from  which 
they  could  look  far  over  the  wide  range  of  the 
tree-clad  country.  Spread  before  them  were 
the  sweeping  black  forests  of  pine,  broken  here 
and  there  with  patches  of  ling  and  heather,  as 
the  surface  of  the  ocean  may  be  mottled  by 
lighter  spaces  that  mark  where  the  concealed 
currents  run. 

Suddenly,  as  they  turned  a  corner  where  the 
path  ran  along  a  rocky  hillside,  becoming  so 
narrow  that  they  were  close  together,  Erna  laid 
her  hand  on  the  arm  of  her  companion. 


54  ALBRECHT. 

"  Look !  "  she  exclaimed,  pointing  with  the 
other  hand. 

Far,  far  before  them,  bathed  in  the  golden 
light  of  the  dying  sun,  lay  the  peaks  of  the 
Alps.  White  and  pure  as  crystal  the  snowy 
summits  rose  toward  the  sky,  while  lower  the 
slopes  were  flushed  to  rosy  pink,  or  dyed  to 
strange  and  lovely  hues  of  gold  and  crimson 
and  purple.  From  a  cloud  of  rainbow  colors 
soared  the  rosy  peaks,  fairer  than  dreams. 

Erna  checked  her  horse,  and  her  companion 
did  the  same,  although  he  seemed  not  fully  to 
comprehend  her  enthusiasm. 

"  It  is  like  heaven,"  she  sighed.  "  Only  once 
before  in  my  whole  life  have  I  seen  the  Alps 
like  that;  they  are  not  often  to  be  seen  from 
here." 

Albrecht  did  not  answer,  but  gazed  upon  the 
distant  mountains,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  under- 
stand why  their  appearance  should  affect  his 
companion  so  strongly.  As  they  gazed,  the 
hues  on  the  sides  of  the  hills  deepened;  the 
rose  and  gold  of  the  peaks  faded;  the  white 
of  the  summits  seemed  to  become  transparent, 
as  if  one  could  see  through  them  into  the  sky 
beyond;  and  little  by  little  the  sharp  outline 
blended  with  the  quickly  dimming  heaven 
against  which  they  had  stood  out  in  relief. 
The  shadow  of  the  lower  world  crept  upward ; 


HOW   HE   REMAINED  TO   WOO.  55 

and  as  they  stood  there  the  glorious  vision 
vanished.  Only  an  empty  sky  where  the 
dimness  of  night  was  growing  lay  in  the  dis- 
tance before  them  in  place  of  the  beauty  they 
had  seen. 

"  It  was  like  heaven,"  Erna  said  again,  as  she 
started  her  palfrey. 

"Then,"  responded  her  companion,  in  a  tone 
of  deep  gravity,  "  one  must  have  a  soul  to 
appreciate  it." 

She  turned  and  looked  at  him  questioningly ; 
but  with  one  of  those  quick  changes  of  mood 
which  always  seemed  to  her  so  surprising  in  so 
manly  a  knight,  he  burst  into  a  merry  laugh, 
and  began  in  his  rich  voice  to  sing  a  gay 
hunting-song. 


56  ALBRECHT. 

V 

HOW  THEY  DISCOURSED   OF   KISSES. 

THE  damsel  Elsa  was  a  trim  and  comely  maid, 
with  a  bright  eye  and  a  ready  tongue,  of 
which  the  men  and  youths  of  the  castle  had 
learned  to  have  a  wholesome  fear.  She  went 
about  her  affairs  singing  pleasant  ditties,  and 
one  morning  she  crossed  the  great  hall  where 
Baron  Albrecht  was  waiting  for  the  countess, 
with  whom  he  was  to  ride  out,  as  had  be- 
come much  their  fashion  now ;  and  as  she  went, 
she  sang  in  her  sweet,  clear  voice  a  little  love- 
song  that  ran  in  this  wise : 

"  When  winter  howls  across  the  wold, 

And  all  the  gates  are  fast, 
Then  is  thine  heart,  shut  from  the  cold, 

Safe  from  the  blast, 
And  safe  from  whomsoe'er  goes  past 

"  When  Spring  makes  lovely  all  the  land, 

And  casements  open  wide, 
Beware  lest  some  gay  wandering  band 

Should  slip  inside, 
And  steal  thine  heart,  and  thee  deride  ! 


HOW  THEY   DISCOURSED   OF   KISSES.        5/ 

"  When  once  't  is  gone,  to  win  it  back 

Full  vainly  mayst  thou  try ; 
Nor  golden  bribes  nor  tears,  alack  ! 

Lost  hearts  can  buy, 
Since  who  loves  once,  loves  till  he  die." 

Baron  Albrecht  listened  to  her  singing  with  a 
smile  on  his  face. 

"  Now,  by  my  beard,"  he  said,  "  a  song  like 
that  is  worth  a  reward." 

And  he  put  his  great  shapely  hand  beneath 
her  white  chin,  and  kissed  her  full  upon  her  red 
lips.  At  that  very  moment  the  Countess  Erna 
came  into  the  hall.  Her  cheek  flushed  as 
the  damsel  uttered  an  exclamation  and  fled 
hastily,  and  she  looked  at  the  baron  in  the  evi- 
dent expectation  of  seeing  him  also  covered 
with  confusion.  But  Albrecht  merely  smiled, 
and  smoothed  his  chestnut  beard. 

"  The  damsel  sings  passing  sweetly,"  he  said, 
unmoved  by  her  glance. 

"  Is  it  for  that  that  thou  hast  kissed  her?  " 
demanded  Erna,  scornfully. 

"  Truly,"  replied  he. 

Erna  regarded  him  with  a  look  in  which 
amazement  struggled  with  disapprobation.  She 
could  not  comprehend  his  strange  indifference 
at  being  discovered. 

"  And  hast  thou  no  shame,"  she  demanded, 
"to  be  seen  trifling  with  the  girl?" 


58  ALBRECHT. 

"  Shame  ? "  he  echoed.  "  Why  should  I 
have?  " 

"Nor  any  fear  of  my  displeasure?" 

"Thy  displeasure?"  he  repeated.  "Why 
shouldst  thou  be  displeased?" 

She  regarded  him  in  silence  a  moment;  and 
as  she  did  not  speak,  he  continued : 

"  Surely  thou  canst  not  •  be  jealous  of  a 
serving-wench  ?  " 

She  drew  herself  up  proudly,  all  the  blood  of 
her  ancestors  aflame  in  her  clear  pale  cheek. 

"  The  Von  Rittenbergs  are  jealous  neither  .of 
serving-wenches  nor  on  account  of  strangers," 
she  returned  haughtily. 

Albrecht  looked  at  her  in  a  perplexity  that  it 
was  impossible  not  to  believe  genuine. 

"  Then  what  is  my  offence?"  he  asked.  "I 
did  but  kiss  the  maid.  I  meant  her  no  harm. 
Why  should  not  one  kiss  a  smooth  cheek  if  it 
likes  him?  " 

He  spoke  humbly,  yet  with  no  air  either  of 
bravado  or  of  conscious  guilt.  She  felt  that  his 
ignorance  was  not  feigned,  yet  could  hardly 
bring  herself  to  believe  that  he  did  not  under- 
stand what  her  feeling  must  be  at  discovering 
him  in  the  act  she  had  seen.  Moreover,  she 
found  herself  strangely  at  a  loss  how  to  reply  to 
his  question,  if  it  were  in  reality  serious.  If  he 
did  not  perceive  the  impropriety  of  his  conduct, 


HOW  THEY  DISCOURSED   OF  KISSES.        59 

it  was  not  easy  for  her  to  explain  it  to  him. 
She  stood  a  moment  in  silence,  regarding  him 
with  a  penetrating  glance  under  which  he 
showed  no  sign  of  wavering,  and  then  instead  of 
turning  away  to  leave  him  as  had  at  first  been 
her  intention,  she  smiled  faintly,  and  with  an 
expression  of  doubt  still  in  her  eyes. 

"  One  would  think,  Sir  Knight,"  she  said, 
"  that  thy  father's  house  must  needs  be  a  rude 
place  if  it  is  there  held  proper  to  kiss  the 
damsels  that  please  one,  without  hindrance." 

"  In  thy  father's  castle,"  he  answered  slowly, 
"  we  have  perhaps  lived  in  a  fashion  that  would 
seem  to  thee  rude,  for  that  my  mother  died  at 
my  birth,  and  there  has  been  no  one  but  men 
to  make  the  rules  of  the  house ;  but  why  it  is 
wrong  to  kiss  a  comely  woman  if  she  please 
thee,  is  one  of  the  things  that  I  have  never  been 
told  there  or  here." 

Erna's  tender  heart  was  at  once  touched  by 
the  thought  of  her  companion's  orphanage,  her 
own  motherless  childhood  being  still  too  fresh 
in  her  mind  not  to  render  her  susceptible  to 
this  plea.  She  took  up  her  whip  from  the  bench, 
and  turned  quickly,  that  he  might  not  see  the 
tears  that  sprang  to  her  eyes  whenever  one 
mentioned  the  loss  of  a  mother. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  will  leave  it  to  Father 
Christopher  to  deal  with  thy  transgression." 


6O  ALBRECHT. 

The  change  in  her  tone  did  not  escape  his 
quick  ears,  arid  he  hastened  to  follow  her  to  the 
courtyard,  where  the  horses  were  waiting. 

Their  way  that  morning  led  them  over  hill 
and  dale*,  until  they  came  at  length  to  a  wide 
meadow,  where  the  knight  was  minded  to  fly 
his  falcon.  A  stream  ran  through  the  midst  of 
the  valley,  and  along  its  banks  the  grass  was  as 
vividly  green  as  the  emeralds  which  sparkled  in 
the  hilt  of  Albrecht's  dagger;  while  all  through 
it  the  golden  buttercups  were  set  as  thickly  as 
the  stars  in  the  sky  of  a  summer's  night.  Here 
and  there  grew  clusters  of  tall  reeds  and  water 
grasses  gently  swaying  in  the  soft  breeze ;  and 
as  Albrecht  took  his  falcon  from  the  wrist  of 
his  squire,  who  carried  the  bird,  a  splendid 
white  heron  rose  with  smooth,  steady  flight 
from  amid  the  rushes,  and  went  soaring  upward. 
The  baron  quickly  and  deftly  pulled  the  hood 
from  the  falcon's  head ;  but  just  as  he  was 
loosening  the  jess  Erna  leaned  forward  and  laid 
her  hand  on  his  arm. 

"  Let  the  heron  go  unharmed,"  she  said. 
"Why  shouldst  thou  'strike  him  down?" 

"  Because,"  he  responded,  "  thou  art  to  wear 
his  plumes  in  thy  cap  after  I  am  gone,  in 
memory  of  me." 

"  After  thou  art  gone  ?  "  she  repeated  softly, 
drawing  back. 


HOW  THEY  DISCOURSED   OF  KISSES.       6l 

He  smiled  and  shook  off  the  hawk,  which 
rose  in  graceful  circles  until  it  was  far  overhead, 
and  hung  dizzily  above  the  meadow.  It  sailed 
to  and  fro  a  moment  until  its  prey,  which  had 
discovered  it  and  in  dismay  was  straining  every 
nerve  to  quicken  its  flight,  was  just  beneath  it; 
then  suddenly,  with  the  rapidity  of  a  thunder- 
bolt, it  fell  straight  upon  the  beautiful  heron. 
Erna  uttered  a  cry  of  dismay,  and  covered 
her  eyes  with  her  hand. 

"  It  is  too  cruel !  "  she  exclaimed. 

Albrecht  struck  his  hands  together  in  glee. 

"  It  is  a  brave  bird  !  "  he  cried.  "  I  would  rather 
lose  a  gold  mine  than  that  falcon.  He  is  as  sure 
of  his  quarry  as  the  rain  is  to  fall  to  the  ground." 

Erna  did  not  answer,  but  she  regarded  him 
with  the  look  of  one  who  strove  to  understand 
his  pleasure,  and  to  understand  is  almost  to 
share.  She  said  nothing  while  the  squire  rode 
off  to  bring  in  the  game ;  and  when  the  noble 
heron,  its  glistening  throat  stained  with  blood, 
was  brought  to  them,  she  not  only  strove  to 
restrain  the  involuntary  shudder  which  seized 
her,  but  she  did  not  remonstrate  when  her  com- 
panion continued  the  praises  of  his  bird. 

"Did  one  ever  see  a  more  rich  plumage?" 
Albrecht  demanded.  "  It  will  set  off  thy  cap 
bravely ;  and  I  have  always  been  told  that 
womenkind  are  fond  of  gay  attire." 


62  ALBRECHT. 

"  It  is  indeed  a  beautiful  bird,"  Erna  re- 
sponded ;  "  but  dost  thou  know  that  there  is 
always  something  very  amusing  in  the  way 
thou  speakest,  as  if  thou  hadst  never  seen  hur 
man  beings  till  now." 

A  faint  flush  crossed  Albrecht's  cheek.  He 
looked  at  the  dead  heron. 

"  I  never  thought  of  it  before,"  he  said;  "  but 
it  does  seem  hard  that  he  should  have  to  be 
killed  just  to  please  me." 

Erna  flushed  in  her  turn.  She  thought  she 
had  offended  him  by  her  criticism  of  his  manner 
of  speech. 

"  I  beg  thy  pardon,"  she  began ;  but  he  in- 
terrupted her. 

"  Thou  hast  no  need,"  he  said.  "  Besides, 
thou  art  right.  I  know  nothing  of  women.  I 
do  not  even  know,  it  seems,  how  they  should 
be  treated,  or  how  to  please  them.  Otherwise," 
he  added  with  his  warm  smile,  "  I  should  not 
have  offended  thee  this  morning  by  kissing  the 
damsel  who  sang  so  sweetly." 

The  countess  smiled,  and  turned  toward  him 
with  her  face  full  of  light.  They  had  not  dis- 
mounted, but  had  halted  their  horses  near  the 
margin  of  the  brook  on  the  banks  of  which  the 
heron  had  been  feeding  lower  down. 

"  That,"  she  said,  "is  not  a  thing  to  be  taught. 
It  is  learned  from  the  air  and  from  the  birds." 


HOW  THEY  DISCOURSED   OF  KISSES.       63 

"Then  why  has  it  not  been  revealed  to  me? 
I  have  been  much  in  the  forest." 

"  To  kill  the  birds !  In  good  sooth,  I  know 
not  that  one  may  learn  of  the  air  and  the  woods 
who  goes  as  thou  goest,  with  falcon  and  boar- 
spear.  But  at  least,"  she  added,  regarding  him 
with  a  smile,  "  thou  must  know  that  when  one 
loves  —  " 

She  broke  off  suddenly,  and  turned  away 
her  face,  with  a  flush  creeping  up  into  her 
cheek. 

"Well,"  Albrecht  demanded  eagerly,  "what 
then?  " 

"  I  was  but  thinking,"  she  returned,  in  a 
voice  lower  than  before,  "that  certainly  every 
man  knoweth  that  when  one  truly  loveth  an- 
other, he  will  care  for  the  caress  of  none  save 
only  the  loved  one." 

"  I  had  never  thought  of  that,"  the  knight 
responded  gravely. 

"  Then  of  a  surety  thou  hast  never  known 
what  it  is  to  love." 

"  By  that  token,  never,"  he  answered,  smil- 
ing; "  albeit  it  were  possible  that  the  test  would 
not  hold;  and  in  any  case  it  were  not  difficult, 
perchance,  for  thee  to  teach  me." 

The  Countess  Erna  looked  into  his  face  all 
flushed  and  radiant,  and  there  was  that  in  her 
eyes  which  no  man  could  see  and  fail  to  under- 


64  ALBRECHT. 

stand ;  and  although  the  squire  waiting  hard  by 
might  not  note  that  aught  had  been  said  or 
done  out  of  the  ordinary  course,  none  the  less 
had  their  hearts  spoken  each  to  each  from 
that  moment.  Erna  wheeled  her  horse,  and 
began  to  move  toward  the  entrance  of  the 
valley;  and  as  Albrecht  rode  beside  her,  he 
suddenly  leaned  forward  and  caught  her  pal- 
frey's rein,  so  that  the  beast  was  almost  thrown 
upon  his  haunches  with  the  abruptness  of  his 
arrest 

"  Do  not  ride  toward  the  upper  ford,"  he 
said;  "the  nix  is  in  an  evil  mood  to-day,  and 
mayhap  might  do  thee  a  mischief  in  her 
spitefulness." 

Erna  looked  at  him  with  astonishment  and 
alarm. 

"And  how  knowest  thou  of  the  moods  of  the 
nix?  "  she  demanded. 

His  eyes  fell,  and  a  flush  stained  his  swarthy 
cheek.  Then  he  seemed  to  recover  his  self- 
possession. 

"It  is  a  knowledge,"  he  replied,  "that  is 
learned  from  the  air  and  from  the  birds,  but 
only  by  those  who  are  in  sympathy  with  the 
woodland  creatures  so  that  they  may  compre- 
hend it." 

Erna  laughed  merrily,  and  turned  her  palfrey 
toward  the  lower  ford. 


HOW  THEY  DISCOURSED   OF  KISSES.        65 

"  In  sober  sooth,  thou  knowest  no  more  of 
the  nix  than  do  I,"  she  told  him;  "but  I  mind 
not  if  I  please  thy  fancy." 

But  when  alone  in  her  chamber  she  thought 
of  this,  she  crossed  herself  and  shivered  a  little 
with  a  not  unpleasing  awe. 


66  ALBRECHT. 


VI 

HOW  THEY  CAME  TO  KISSES  THEMSELVES. 

FROM  that  day  when  they  rode  together 
to  the  slaying  of  the  heron  by  the  stream 
in  the  meadow,  there  was  a  new  bond  between 
the  Countess  Erna  and  the  Baron  Albrecht. 
There  had  been  nothing  further  said  between 
them  of  love,  even  in  the  impersonal  way  in 
which  they  had  then  begun  to  talk  of  it,  but 
the  revelation  of  the  glance  which  had  then 
passed  from  her  eyes  to  his  changed  all  the 
old  relations.  They  knew  that  they  loved  each 
other,  and  although  they  were  not  yet  come 
to  the  confession  in  word  of  their  love,  they 
understood  well  that  they  belonged  each  to 
the  other. 

One  day  the  countess  sat  at  her  embroidery 
in  the  hall,  with  her  guest  near  her,  and  Father 
Christopher  not  far  away.  Without,  a  wild 
tempest  of  wind  and  rain  shook  the  castle 
towers,  and  swept  over  forest  and  hill.  From 
the  casements  one  looked  out  upon  a  sea  of 
mist  that  rolled  above  the  tree-tops,  beaten 


HOW  THEY   CAME  TO   KISSES  THEMSELVES.     6/ 

and  torn  by  the  wind,  and  lashing  the  hills 
in  angry,  mimic  waves.  All  the  weird'  voices 
of  the  Schwarzwald,  melancholy  or  fierce, 
raged  and  wailed  in  the  troubled  air.  It  was 
a  day  when  the  unholy  powers  of  the  forest 
held  high  festival,  and  it  was  with  inward 
shudders  that  Erna  heard  afar  their  hoarse 
tones,  calling  and  yelling  to  one  another  in 
the  storm. 

Sitting  at  her  embroidery  frame  without  her 
damsels,  who  were  scattered  about  the  castle 
upon  one  mission  or  another,  Erna  talked  with 
the  baron  and  the  priest,  now  and  then  think- 
ing with  dread  of  the  night  which  was  not  far 
away,  and  hearing  in  her  fancy  already  the 
roaring  of  the  blast  about  the  towers,  the  shrill 
cry  of  the  Wild  Huntsman,  and  the  shrieks  of 
his  elfin  train.  When  she  looked  up  at  the 
splendid  form  of  her  guest,  however,  her  fears 
vanished  in  a  breath,  and  she  smiled  that  she 
should  have  found  it  possible  to  fear  while  he 
was  at  her  side.  In  the  warmth  of  his  glance 
the  tempest  and  all  the  dread  dwellers  in  the 
forest  were  forgotten,  and  she  was  conscious 
only  of  the  joy  of  his  presence. 

The  knight  had  been  asking  concerning  the 
armor  of  Erna's  father,  which  hung  in  the  hall ; 
and  from  this  the  talk  easily  drifted  to  the 
Great  Emperor,  his  noble  deeds,  his  splendid 


68  ALBRECHT. 

army,  and  the  brilliant  court  which  he  had 
gathered  about  him. 

"  How  much  I  should  like  to  see  it  all,"  the 
maiden  said  dreamily,  as  she  looked  earnestly 
at  Albrecht;  "the  tourneys,  the  feasts,  the  pro- 
cessions, and  all  the  beautiful  court  life." 

Father  Christopher  regarded  her  in  some 
amazement. 

"Is  it  thou,"  he  asked,  "who  sayest  this? 
Thou  who  hast  always  been  so  thankful  that 
thou  wert  spared  the  temptations  and  the  world- 
liness  of  the  court?  Didst  thou  not  refuse  to 
go  to  Mayence  when  Charlemagne  was  there 
with  his  train,  because  thou  didst  not  wish  to 
fill  thy  mind  with  frivolous  images?" 

"  So  I  did,  Father,  but  mayhap  my  aunt 
was  not  wholly  in  the  wrong  when  she  called 
me  a  fool  for  my  refusal,"  Erna  answered, 
smiling. 

"  The  court  would  ill  suit  me,"  Albrecht  re- 
marked, while  the  good  priest  remained  sunk  in 
astonishment  at  the  change  which  the  words  of 
Erna  indicated.  "  My  choice  is  for  the  forest,  for 
the  hunt  and  the  chase.  The  only  thing  at  court 
that  would  attract  me  would  be  the  tourney." 

"  Would  that  I  might  see  thee  in  the  lists !  " 
Erna  half  murmured,  leaning  a  little  toward 
him. 

"  Mayhap     that     thou     shalt,"     he    replied. 


HOW  THEY  CAME  TO  KISSES  THEMSELVES.    69 

"  Stranger  things  than  this  have  come  to 
pass.  If  thou  dost,  thou  wilt  see  me  break 
a  lance  in  thy  behalf  right  gladly." 

"  And  thou  no  longer  thinkest,"  Father 
Christopher  interposed  gravely,  "  that  it  is 
wrong  for  knights  to  risk  their  lives  in  mere 
wanton  pastime?" 

"  Oh,  there  may  be  some  danger,"  she  re- 
turned with  a  slight  air  of  impatience,  "  but 
why  must  one  be  forever  troubling  to  exam- 
ine too  closely?  Is  there  to  be  no  pleasure  in 
life  lest  harm  should  come  after  it,  forsooth?  " 

Father  Christopher  left  his  seat,  to  stand 
for  a  moment  looking  at  the  countess  as  if  in 
bewilderment.  He  did  not  in  truth  know  what 
to  make  of  his  mistress  in  such  a  mood  as 
this,  so  different  was  it  from  all  that  she  had 
ever  been  before.  He  seemed  minded  to 
speak,  and  then,  as  if  reflecting  that  her  words 
did  not  after  all  contain  aught  which  he  was 
called  upon  to  regard  with  severity,  and  per- 
haps that  in  any  case  what  he  might  wish  to 
say  to  her  would  be  delivered  better  privately, 
he  sighed  deeply,  and  moved  away  without 
further  speech.  Erna  looked  after  him  as  he 
slowly  passed  down  the  hall,  the  edge  of  his 
robe  here  and  there  catching  upon  one  of  the 
rushes  with  which  the  floor  was  strewn. 

"  Poor  father  Christopher !  "  she  said  with  a 


7O  ALBRECHT. 

low,  sweet  laugh,  "  I  have  grieved  him.  -It  is 
a  pity  to  make  him  unhappy.  I  never  used 
to  do  that." 

She  regarded  her  gay-colored  embroidery  a 
moment  absently,  as  if  she  did  not  see  it;  then 
suddenly  she  dropped  the  hand  which  held  her 
needle  and  leaned  toward  her  companion. 

"What  hast  thou  done  to  me?"  she  de- 
manded. "  Hast  thou  bewitched  me,  that  all 
the  things  that  I  loved  have  become  dull  to 
me,  and  all  the  things  which  I  wished  not  for 
are  now  in  my  thoughts  with  longing?" 

A  roaring  blast  shook  the  castle  windows, 
and  it  was  as  if  the  spirits  of  the  storm, 
sweeping  up  from  the  bosom  of  the  wild  and 
mighty  Schwarzwald,  shouted  in  mocking 
laughter  outside;  but  neither  Erna  nor  Al- 
brecht  regarded. 

"I  have  done  nothing  to  thee,"  the  knight 
answered,  in  his  turn  bending  forward ;  "  but 
what  hast  thou  done  to  me,  that  I  linger  here 
day  after  day,  and  that  I  consider  now  the 
pain  of  the  beast  that  dies  by  my  spear,  or 
of  the  bird  that  my  falcon  strikes?" 

"  Nothing  have  I  done  to  thee,"  Erna  an- 
swered ;  but  her  voice  faltered,  and  her  glance 
fell. 

Albrecht  reached  out  his  big  brown  hand,  and 
took  her  milk-white  fingers  in  his. 


HOW  THEY  CAME  TO   KISSES  THEMSELVES.    /I 

"  Only,"  he  said,  "  I  love  thee." 

Erna  rose  to  her  feet,  and  cast  a  swift  glance 
around  the  hall,  as  if  she  were  minded  to  es- 
cape ;  then  she  turned  toward  him,  and  he 
sprang  to  her  to  clasp  her  in  his  arms.  The 
knight  kissed  her  glowingly  upon  her  red  lips. 

"  Now  thou  art  mine,"  he  said,  "  and  all  the 
world  shall  not  wrest  thee  from  me." 

He  had  scarcely  spoken  when  in  the  dark- 
ening afternoon  a  mighty  blast  seemed  to 
throw  itself  against  the  tower;  a  yell  of  elfin 
laughter  resounded  in  the  hollow  chimney, 
and  the  hound  which  had  lain  at  Erna's  feet 
crouched  flat  on  the  rushes,  whining  with  deadly 
fear.  Frighted,  yet  too  full  of  her  love  to  heed 
the  cry  of  wild  sprite  or  the  fierceness  of  the 
tempest,  Erna  clung  closely  to  the  knight,  and 
thus  together  did  the  Lady  Adelaide,  coming 
unexpectedly  into  the  hall,  surprise  them. 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin  !  "  she  cried. 

The  lovers  started,  but  although  they  re- 
leased each  other  from  the  embrace  in  which 
they  had  been  wound,  they  still  stood  together, 
and  the  arm  of  the  knight  was  about  Erna's 
waist.  She  clung  to  his  hand  in  maidenly  agi- 
tation, not  wholly  unmixed  with  the  fear 
which  the  sudden  vehemence  of  the  tempest 
had  aroused,  yet  she  smiled  bravely  upon 
her  aunt,  with  eyes  which  shone  with  the 


72  ALBRECHT. 

firmness  and  the  joy  of  the  troth  she  had 
just  plighted. 

The  Lady  Adelaide,  whose  nerves  were 
already  upset  by  the  storm  and  by  the  weird 
sounds  which  were  heard  about  the  castle, 
was  doubly  overwhelmed  with  emotion  by  the 
sight  before  her.  It  was  a  shock  from  which 
it  was  not  easy  for  her  to  recover,  to  see 
her  niece  in  the  arms  of  any  man.  She  had 
so  long  looked  upon  Countess  Erna  as  cold 
and  devoid  of  all  warm  human  passion,  that 
she  could  scarcely  believe  the  evidence  of  her 
own  senses  now  that  she  beheld  the  countess 
with  her  lips  pressed  to  those  of  a  lover.  She 
had  so  long  cherished,  moreover,  the  hope 
that  by  a  marriage  with  Count  Stephen  Erna 
might  still  bear  the  Von  Rittenberg  name,  that 
it  could  not  but  be  with  a  keen  pang  of  dis- 
appointment that  she  saw  all  these  schemes 
swept  away. 

Most  of  all  things,  however,  did  Lady  Ade- 
laide desire  to  see  her  niece  married,  and  since 
it  could  not  be  to  Count  Stephen,  she  was  not 
averse  to  the  choice  that  Erna  had  made.  She 
had  been  like  everybody  else  in  the  castle,  and 
had  fallen  an  easy  conquest  to  the  fascination 
of  Baron  Albrecht.  His  joyous,  winning  man- 
ner, his  persuasive  presence,  had  captivated  the 
ancient  dame  completely ;  and  now  when  Erna 


HOW  THEY  CAME  TO   KISSES  THEMSELVES.    73 

was  prepared  for  the  gravest  disapproval,  she 
met,  to  her  great  surprise,  only  smiles. 

"  Be  not  angry,  Lady,"  the  baron  said,  look- 
ing the  old  duenna  frankly  in  the  face,  "  but  we 
were  plighting  our  troth." 

The  cheeks  of  Erna  were  like  a  late  rose 
amid  untimely  snow,  but  her  eyes  did  not 
flinch  from  the  regard  of  Lady  Adelaide. 

"  Give  us  thy  blessing,"  she  pleaded ;  "  the 
castle  of  Rittenberg  is  to  have  at  last  the  lord 
which  thou  hast  so  long  wished  for  it." 

The  old  dame  laughed  and  came  forward. 

"The  time  has  gone  by,"  she  said,  "when 
elders  were  asked  to  advise  in  the  love  affairs 
of  young  folk,  but  mayhap  all  goes  not  wrong 
for  that.  Thou  wilt  have  thy  own  way  in  this 
matter,  so  why  should  I  cumber  myself  to 
frown  and  chide  at  what  cannot  be  helped 
by  me?  " 

"  Now,  nay,  Aunt  Adelaide,"  Erna  responded, 
smiling  at  the  manner  in  which  the  other  ac- 
cepted the  situation,  "  that  is  but  a  curt  and 
unkind  way  in  which  to  give  greeting  to  me  on 
my  betrothal ;  and  thou  alone  of  all  my  house 
left  to  wish  me  joy !  " 

The  great-aunt  put  up  her  shrivelled  lips 
and  kissed  the  girl,  patting  her  hand  kindly. 

"  Nay,  nay,"  she  said,  the  tears  coming  into 
her  aged  eyes,  "  I  wish  thee  well,  and  thou 


74  ALBRECHT. 

shalt  not  lack  for  my  blessing,  though  the 
Von  Rittenberg  name  vanish  from  the  earth 
when  I  am  laid  away.  I  wish  thee  joy;  and, 
Sir  Baron,  I  give  thee  my  greeting.  It  is  much 
that  thou  askest,  when  thou  wouldst  claim  the 
last  of  our  house,  but  there  is  that  about  thee 
that  speaks  the  brave  man,  and  one  who  will 
defend  her  in  these  troublous  times." 

The  sight  of  a  pair  of  lovers  in  their  first 
joy  will  move  even  hearts  which  are  encased 
in  triple  coats  of  worldliness  and  pride ;  and 
the  Lady  Adelaide,  who  of  all  folk  was  least 
likely  to  be  touched  by  sentiment,  when  she 
had  clasped  the  hands  of  Erna  and  Albrecht, 
had  wet  eyes  as  she  went  slowly  down  the 
hall  again  as  she  had  come,  leaving  them 
alone. 

And  thus  were  the  Countess  von  Rittenberg 
and  the  stranger  knight  betrothed. 


HOW  THE  TIME  WORE.  75 


VII 

HOW  THE  TIME  WORE  TO  THE  WEDDING  DAY. 

MUCH  had  matters  altered  at  Rittenberg 
since  Baron  Albrecht  came  thither,  and 
yet  still  more  did  they  change  after  his  be- 
trothal to  the  castle's  chatelaine.  The  whole 
household  took  on  a  festive  air,  until  even 
the  humblest  retainer  seemed  to  be  affected 
by  the  joyous  spirit  which  Albrecht  had 
brought.  The  change  in  Erna  herself  doubt- 
less had  not  a  little  to  do  with  this,  since  it 
hath  ever  been  found  that  the  mood  of  the 
mistress  is  likely  to  give  the  key-note  to  her 
dependants.  The  countess  had  laid  aside  all 
her  old  air  of  pensive  contemplation,  the  pious 
mien  which  had  so  wearied  her  cousin  Count 
Stephen ;  and  had  so  taken  on  an  air  of  gayety 
that  all  in  the  castle  felt  it,  and  each  in  one 
way  or  another,  according  to  the  nature  of 
each,  responded  to  it. 

Now  and  then  over  this  gayety  seemed  to 
steal  the  faint  shadow  of  some  unknown  dread 
from  the  forest.  The  retainers  whispered  among 


76  ALBRECHT. 

themselves  that  there  had  been  strange  portents 
and  signs  that  the  wood-folk  were  astir  and  full 
of  excitement.  Now  and  then  one  .of  Erna's 
damsels  would  hint  that  wild  rumors  were  afloat. 
The  churls  that  drove  the  swine  and  the  geese 
afield  had  seen  vague  forms  flitting  among  the 
shadows  of  the  glades ;  they  had  heard  what 
they  could  not  tell,  yet  what  had  filled  them 
with  terror;  and  while  no  one  could  say  why 
the  unhuman  beings  who  peopled  the  dim  re- 
cesses of  the  forest  should  be  thus  aroused, 
there  was  much  dread  of  them  in  the  timor- 
ous bosoms  of  the  serfs  and  serving-wenches  at 
Rittenberg. 

But  however  greatly  these  things  perturbed 
the  simple-minded  serving-folk,  they  did  not 
trouble  the  happiness  of  Albrecht  and  Erna. 
Between  the  knight  and  his  betrothed  there 
were  now  many  sweet  confidences,  in  which, 
indeed,  nothing  especial  was  imparted  by  one 
to  the  other,  but  which  nevertheless  gave  them 
great  satisfaction.  They  had  met  little  oppo- 
sition to  their  wishes,  and  indeed,  when  one 
considered  the  rank  of  the  countess,  and  how 
completely  a  stranger  was  the  baron,  it  might 
be  wondered  much  that  there  was  not  more 
difficulty  in  his  obtaining  his  bride.  But  the 
times  were  uncertain,  the  castle  had  no  male 
head,  Charlemagne  was  far  away,  and  who 


HOW  THE  TIME   WORE.  77 

knew  what  might  happen  if  they  waited  to  ask 
the  imperial  consent  to  the  alliance;  while  the 
baron  had  won  everybody  to  his  side  by  his 
winsomeness.  He  pressed  for  a  speedy  mar- 
riage, and  no  one  said  him  nay.  They  had 
in  the  war-full,  years  learned  to  do  quickly 
whatever  was  to  be  done  at  all,  and  there 
seemed  no  need  to  hinder  the  joy  of  the 
young  people,  which  might  at  any  moment 
be  broken,  should  a  summons  come  from  the 
Great  Emperor  calling  all  the  knights  to  his 
standard. 

Toward  her  lover  Erna  was  by  turns  arch 
and  tender,  as  if  she  had  not  yet  mastered 
the  art  to  conceal  her  feelings,  even  in  sport. 
She  said  to  him  once,  as  they  stood  together 
by  the  window  in  the  great  hall  of  the  castle, 
looking  down  into  the  valley  where  the  solemn 
pine-forests  stretched  far  and  far  to  the  very 
horizon : 

"Hast  thou  learned  yet  why  one  does  not 
kiss  any  maid  save  the  one  whom  alone  he 
loves?  " 

"  I  have  at  least  learned  that  there  is  no 
kiss  in  the  whole  world  so  sweet  as  thine,"  he 
answered. 

Father  Christopher  was  of  all  the  house  most 
deeply  moved  by  the  betrothal  of  his  mistress, 
and  although  he  had  become  much  attached 


78  ALBRECHT. 

to  the  baron,  he  was  not  without  forebodings 
for  the  result  of  this  marriage. 

"  It  is  in  thy  hands,  my  daughter,"  he  said 
solemnly  to  Erna,"  to  shape  the  life  of  this  man. 
He  is  noble  and  generous  and  true,  and  I  be- 
lieve that  his  heart  is  all  that  one  might  wish. 
But  he  knows  little  of  spiritual  things,  and  I 
consent  to  unite  thee  to  him  that  thou,  who 
hast  been  richly  blessed  by  Heaven,  mayst 
teach  him  the  high  things  of  life.  His  soul 
will  be  required  at  thine  hands  in  the  Day  of 
Judgment;  for  while  the  souls  of  all  husbands 
are  in  the  keeping  of  their  wives,  his  will  be 
doubly  so  in  thine,  for  that  thou  hast  been 
taught  the  heavenly  way,  and  I  gather  that  his 
childhood  has  been  but  an  heathenish  one,  and 
his  youth  without  godly  instruction.  On  thy 
head  be  it,  daughter,  if  he  be  not  led  to  the 
light;  and  great  will  be  thy  blessing  if  thou 
doest  but  win  him  to  paths  of  spiritual  life." 

If  Erna  received  these  words  with  less  pious 
enthusiasm  than  would  have  been  the  case  a  few 
short  weeks  before,  she  was  yet  much  moved 
by  them,  and  most  solemnly  did  she  promise 
the  old  priest  that  she  would  spare  no  effort  to 
draw  her  lover  toward  those  higher  things  for. 
which  he  did  indeed  as  yet  show  small  concern. 

"  Father,"  she  answered  humbly,  "  I  know 
not  what  I  may  do,  but  as  much  as  is  in  me 


HOW  THE  TIME  WORE.  79 

I  will  not  spare  to  work  and  to  pray  for  the 
salvation  of  him  whom  I  love." 

"  With  love  and  faith,"  the  priest  replied, 
"  and  the  blessing  of  the  holy  ones,  there  is 
nothing  that  a  woman  may  not  do  in  the  heart 
of  her  husband." 

It  was  on  the  same  morning  that  these  words 
passed  between  Father  Christopher  and  Erna, 
that  the  betrothed  pair  rode  out  of  the  castle 
into  the  forest,  followed  by  a  groom  who  car- 
ried on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  a  covered 
basket. 

"  I  feel  so  safe  in  the  forest  when  thou  art 
with  me,"  Erna  said,  as  after  descending  the  hill 
they  turned  from  the  broad  way  into  a  narrow 
track  overgrown  with  ferns  and  wild  shrubs, 
and  heavily  shaded  above  by  the  interlaced 
branches  of  the  murmuring  pine-trees. 

"  There  is  naught  to  fear  in  the  forest,"  he 
answered,  smiling,  "save  only  when —  Nay, 
we  will  not  talk  of  that.  Whither  do  we  go  ?  " 

Erna  looked  at  him  with  a  doubt,  born  of  his 
broken  speech,  in  her  eyes ;  but  the  brightness 
of  his  smile  reassured  her. 

"  The  little  daughter  of  the  charcoal-burner  is 
ill,"  she  answered,  "  and  I  am  carrying  her  food 
and  a  healing  draught  from  the  leech." 

"But  why  shouldst  thou  trouble  about  the 
daughter  of  the  charcoal-burner?" 


80  ALBRECHT. 

"  Why  should  I  not?  Is  she  not  human,  and 
has  she  not  a  soul  like  ours?  " 

"  Like  thine,  perchance,"  the  knight  responded. 
"  Thou  hast  a  soul  like  a  child's,  all  white  and 
fair." 

And  for  all  the  rest  of  their  way  through  the 
forest  he  was  so  deeply  sunk  in  thought  that  he 
said  scarcely  a  single  word,  so  that  Erna  could 
not  but  wonder  what  had  come  over  the  spirit 
of  her  merry  betrothed.  From  time  to  time  he 
looked  at  her  and  sighed,  as  if  he  were  reason- 
ing with  himself  whether  he  did  well  to  be  still 
with  her;  and  at  last,  as  they  rode  homeward, 
she  questioned  him  of  what  was  in  his  mind. 

"  It  is  the  doubt,"  he  told  her,  "  whether  I  had 
the  right  to  make  thee  love  me.  It  did  not  come 
to  me  to  consider  that  until  now;  and  now  —  " 

"  And  now,"  she  said  in  a  ringing  voice,  as 
he  broke  off  and  left  his  sentence  unfinished, 
"  now  it  is  too  late." 

The  knight  shook  himself,  as  if  to  shake  off 
a  gloomy  doubt,  and  struck  his  spurs  into  his 
splendid  chestnut  stallion. 

"  Yes,"  he  cried  in  a  voice  of  exultation ; 
"  now  it  is  too  late !  " 

And  away  they  went,  galloping  madly  down 
the  shaded  woodland  way,  bursting  soon  into 
laughter  and  singing  as  they  dashed  along. 

These  moods  of  Albrecht  became  more  and 


HOW  THE  TIME  WORE.  8 1 

more  noticeable  as  by  the  intimacy  of  their 
betrothal  the  lovers  were  brought  more  closely 
together.  Erna  pondered  sometimes  when  alone 
whether  it  were  possible  that  her  lover  had 
upon  his  conscience  some  dark  deed  which 
made  him  in  truth  unworthy  to  claim  her  love; 
but  no  sooner  did  such  a  suggestion  present 
itself  to  her  mind  than  it  was  rejected  with  in- 
dignation. She  was  as  sure  of  his  innocence  as 
of  her  own,  and  perhaps  no  proof  could  have 
persuaded  her  to  the  contrary.  Yet  she  did 
secretly  feel  that  there  might  be  some  mystery 
hidden  behind  the  outward  frankness  of  Al- 
brecht;  though  even  if  there  were  she  loved 
him  with  a  passion  that  was  now  too  strong  to 
be  restrained  by  any  vague  suspicions  or  dim 
forebodings. 

When  the  baron  was  rasked  if  he  wished  to 
send  for  any  of  his  people  to  be  present  at  his 
nuptials,  he  had  answered : 

"  My  mother  died  when  I  was  an  infant,  and 
I  have  neither  brothers  nor  sisters.  My  father 
lost  his  life  in  a  snow-slide  three  years  since,  so 
that  I  am  the  last  of  my  race.  I  will  send  my 
squire  home  for  a  certain  fardel  that  shall  be 
my  Morgengabe ;  and  if  I  may  have  leave,  he 
shall  bring  back  with  him  my  old  foster-father, 
who  has  taught  me  knightly  customs  and  the 
fashion  of  Christian  folk/' 
6 


82  ALBRECHT. 

"  He  shall  be  right  welcome  for  thy  sake," 
the  countess  had  answered.  "  How  is  he  called, 
and  who  is  he  ?  Is  he  of  thy  kin?  " 

"  Nay ;  he  is  only  a  friend  of  my  father,"  the 
baron  replied  with  a  strange  smile,  "  but  he 
hath  dealt  well  by  me.  He  is  called  Herr  von 
Zimmern,  and  he  hath  an  infirmity  in  his  walk, 
concerning  which  I  would  that  thy  people  vex 
him  not." 

"  He  shall  be  courteously  dealt  with  by  them 
all,"  was  Erna's  response,  "  even  as  if  he  were 
thyself." 

So  the  squire  and  one  of  the  men-at-arms 
rode  off  into  the  forest  to  take  the  road  to 
Castle  Waldstein  in  the  Neiderwasser  valley, 
to  fetch  the  Morgengabe,  the  gift  of  gold  or 
of  gems  which  the  bridegroom  gives  to  the 
bride  on  the  morning  after  their  marriage; 
and  the  knight  abode  at  Rittenberg,  being  al- 
ways by  the  side  of  Erna,  so  that  it  was  not 
strange  that  the  two  became  more  and  more 
like  to  each  other  in  their  thoughts  with  every 
day  that  the  sun  brought  on  its  rising  to  the 
Ober-Schwarzwald. 

And  so  the  time  wore  until  the  day  before 
that  set  for  the  wedding  morn,  and  on  that  day 
arrived  the  squire  who  had  been  sent  to  the 
castle  of  Waldstein. 


OF  THE   EVE  BEFORE  THE  WEDDING.        83 


VIII 
OF  THE  EVE  BEFORE  THE  WEDDING. 

WITH  the  squire  came  the  foster-father  of 
Baron  Albrecht,  and  a  singular-looking 
mortal  did  he  prove  to  be.  He  had  apparently 
been  a  tall  man  and  a  strong,  but  that  one  of 
his  ankles  was  lame,  as  if  it  had  been  houghed, 
either  by  some  accident  of  warfare  or  by  the 
cruelty  of  some  enemy,  so  that  he  must  needs, 
forever  thenceforth  go  halting  through  life. 
His  eyes  were  keen  and  piercing,  and  there  was 
in  them  a  sinister  gleam,  a  smouldering  evil 
fierceness,  from  which  Erna  shrank  in  dread, 
although  for  the  sake  of  Albrecht  she  strove 
to  conceal  her  feelings  and  to  treat  the  newly 
come  guest  not  only  with  kindness  but  with 
warmth.  The  sight  of  his  burning  eyes,  his 
shaggy  hair  which  hung  in  tumbled  black 
masses  about  his  shoulders,  his  knotted  power- 
ful hands,  which  he  had  an  uncanny  fashion  of 
clenching  as  he  talked  or  as  he  thought  deeply, 
together  with  his  sunburned  face,  seamed  and 
marred  by  deep  lines  which  might  tell  of  both 


84  ALBRECHT. 

sins  and  sufferings  to  the  eye  that  was  wise 
enough  to  read  them,  made  her  shudder;  and 
when  she  thought  how  this  strange  man  had 
been  the  companion  of  Albrecht,  she  no  longer 
wondered  that  her  lover  should  show  so  little 
knowledge  or  sympathy  with  spiritual  things, 
since  in  the  keeping  of  Herr  von  Zimmern  had 
his  youth  been  passed. 

The  dependants  of  the  household  were  one 
and  all  afraid  of  the  new-comer,  and  indeed 
some  among  them  were  ready  to  swear  on  the 
book  of  the  Gospels  that  this  was  the  same  man 
that  in  the  guise  of  a  beggar  had  been  in  the 
castle  just  before  the  going  of  Count  Stephen 
von  Rittenberg.  They  muttered  among  them- 
selves that  there  was  evil  in  the  cripple,  and 
Elsa  even  whispered  in  the  ear  of  her  mistress, 
crossing  herself  not  a  little  meanwhile,  that  it 
was  believed  among  the  folk  of  the  castle  that 
Von  Zimmern  was  really  some  demon  of  the 
forest  who  was  striving  to  win  power  over  the 
soul  of  Baron  Albrecht,  that  he  might  lure  it 
to  destruction. 

"  Fy  upon  thee  for  a  fool !  "  Lady  Adelaide 
said  testily.  "  There  be  demons  enough  in  the 
wood,  it  is  true,  but  it  is  not  to  be  believed  that 
they  would  venture  into  the  houses  of  Christian 
folk  where  mass  is  said  by  a  consecrated  priest. 
Leave  thy  silly  gossiping,  or  it  may  hap  that 


OF  THE  EVE  BEFORE  THE  WEDDING.       8$ 

the  countess  shall  get  some  hint  of  it,  and  then 
if  it  go  not  ill  with  those  who  dare  to  chatter 
about  them  that  belong  to  the  train  of  her  fu- 
ture lord,  I  ken  little  of  the  Von  Rittenberg 
blood." 

It  was  evident  that  Herr  von  Zimmern  had 
the  happiness  of  Baron  Albrecht  much  at  heart, 
so  greatly  was  he  delighted  at  his  approaching 
marriage.  He  was  wellnigh  oppressive  in  the 
warmth  of  his  manner.  He  spoke  with  the 
greatest  feeling  to  Erna,  while  to  the  Lady 
Adelaide  he  was  so  complimentary  that  her  old 
heart,  already  perchance  somewhat  fluttered  by 
the  unusual  doings  at  Rittenberg,  was  all  in  a 
tremble  of  delight,  and  had  she  been  but  the 
better  part  of  a  century  younger  there  would 
have  been  no  telling  what  might  have  come  of 
her  liking  for  the  flattering  guest. 

It  was  in  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  the 
squire  returned,  and  it  was  on  the  morrow  that 
the  bridal  rites  were  to  be  celebrated,  when 
after  supper  the  household  and  their  guests  sat 
together  by  torchlight  in  the  castle  hall.  The 
Baron  Albrecht  was  in  the  wildest  spirits,  and 
played  innumerable  harmless  little  tricks  upon 
the  priest  and  upon  his  betrothed.  He  was  so 
full  of  glee  that  one  could  not  but  smile  to  be- 
hold 'his  joyousness,  and  to  be  touched  by  the 
sight  of  a  happiness  so  genuine  and  so  keen. 


86  ALBRECHT. 

Erna  had  astonished  them  all  that  night  by 
appearing  in  the  hall  clad  in  a  robe  of  saffrori- 
hued  silken  stuff,  while  on  her  neck  she  wore 
a  triple  string  of  pearls.  So  simple  was  her 
attire  in  general  that  they  stared  at  her  in  sur- 
prise as  she  came  in  dressed  in  this  sumptuous 
guise.  She  flushed  a  little  as  she  felt  their 
glances,  but  she  only  held  her  head  somewhat 
higher,  smiling  on  them  all,  but  most  upon  her 
betrothed,  and  so  took  her  place  in  the  tall 
carved  chair  where  she  always  sat  at  supper. 
Now  that  the  meal  was  over,  she  had  moved  to 
a  lower  seat,  and  there  she  leaned  back  in  a 
corner,  as  if  she  were  half  timid  in  her  new 
robes ;  but  the  Lady  Adelaide  muttered  to 
herself  in  satisfaction  that  this  marriage  was 
like  to  make  a  woman  out  of  her  niece  after 
all;  for  the  shrewd  old  dame  knew  that  when 
a  damsel  begins  to  give  her  heart  to  the 
frivolities  of  attire  she  cannot  long  remain  an 
iceberg. 

Not  far  from  the  young  countess  sat  Herr 
von  Zimmern,  a  dark  figure,  the  more  sombre 
by  contrast  with  her  golden  brightness.  He 
seemed  to  watch  the  company  with  the  deepest 
interest,  and  if  there  were  in  his  intentness  some- 
thing too  eager  to  be  wholly  pleasing,  no  one 
regarded  this,  since  the  little  company  were  all 
absorbed  in  observing  the  jocund  merriment  of 


OF  THE   EVE   BEFORE   THE   WEDDING.        87 

Albrecht  and  the  blushing  fairness,  half  timid 
and  half  sportive,  of  Erna. 

Suddenly  Albrecht  sprang  up  as  they  sat 
together  chatting  gayly,  and  seized  a  boar-spear 
which  chanced  to  be  standing  in  the  corner 
where  Erna  sat. 

"  See !  "  he  cried,  aiming  at  the  head  of  a 
deer  which  was  fixed  high  against  the  wall  over 
the  great  hollow  fireplace. 

Like  a  shaft  of  light  the  spear  flew  gleaming 
down  the  long  hall,  straight  as  a  sun-ray  and 
swift  as  the  wind.  It  transfixed  the  brown  head 
exactly  between  the  eyes,  although  in  the  dim 
and  flickering  light  of  the  torches  such  a  shot 
might  well  have  seemed  impossible,  and  there 
stood  quivering. 

A  cry  of  applause  greeted  this  feat. 

"  Bravo ! "  exclaimed  Herr  von  Zimmern. 
"  That  is  a  pupil  to  be  proud  of." 

"  It  is,  indeed,"  responded  Father  Christo- 
pher. "  If  thou  hast  taught  him  to  throw  the 
spear,  thou  hast  truly  no  reason  to  look  upon 
thy  pains  as  wasted." 

"  All  that  I  know  of  knighthood  he  has  taught 
me,"  Albrecht  said  heartily.  "  He  found  me  an 
unlicked  whelp  of  the  forest,  and  whatever  I  am 
he  has  made  me." 

"  Then,"  Erna  rejoined  with  tender  archness, 
turning  toward  Von  Zimmern,  "  I  have  to  thank 


88  ALBRECHT, 

thee  that  thou  hast  trained  a  husband  for 
me." 

"  Only,"  burst  in  Albrecht,  with  a  rich  laugh, 
"  if  in  anything  I  do  not  suit,  remember  it  is  he 
and  not  I  who  is  to  bear  the  blame." 

"Nay,"  she  said,  giving  the  black-browed 
guest  her  white  hand  with  a  gesture  of  infinite 
grace,  "  I  thank  thee  for  thy  work,  even  though 
he  should  contrive  to  spoil  it  himself." 

"  Come  !  "  cried  Albrecht,  playfully  threaten- 
ing her  with  his  hand,  "  that  is  rank  insubordi- 
nation, and  as  such  —  " 

"  As  such,  Sir  Baron,"  interrupted  his  foster- 
father,  with  a  smile  that  hardly  made  him  less 
ugly  than  before,  "  you  must  bear  it  still  a 
while.  There  has  been  no  promise  to  obey 
or  to  honor  as  yet." 

The  Lady  Adelaide  simpered,  and  laid  her 
hand  upon  the  arm  of  her  niece. 

"  Think  of  it,  Erna,"  she  whispered,  "  how 
wilt  thou  like  to  obey?  " 

"  Oh,  of  that  I  have  small  notion  !  "  the  count- 
ess retorted  aloud.  "When  it  comes  to  that, 
we  shall  see !  " 

The  gay  spirits  of  her  lover  had  infected  her, 
and  she  answered  with  a  manner  quite  unlike 
her  own.  Herr  von  Zimmern  chuckled,  and 
drew  from  his  otter-skin  pouch  a  tiny  roll  of 
soft  leather. 


OF  THE   EVE   BEFORE  THE   WEDDING.       89 

"  So  well  doth  this  sentiment  approve  itself 
to  me,"  he  said,  "  that  humbly  and  with  my 
Lord  Baron's  permission  I  make  bold  to  offer 
you  a  token  in  honor  of  a  marriage  to  be  con- 
ducted on  principles  so  reasonable." 

There  was  a  mocking  note  in  his  voice,  albeit 
his  face  was  too  perfectly  controlled  to  betray 
any  undesirable  emotion.  As  he  spoke  he  un- 
rolled the  leather,  and  brought  to  light  a  ring 
of  red  gold  in  which  was  set  a  large  carbuncle 
engraved  with  strange  characters.  Erna  could 
not  restrain  a  cry  of  admiration  at  sight  of  so 
splendid  a  jewel,  and  Lady  Adelaide  broke  out 
into  voluble  expressions  of  delight. 

"  It  is  not  so  much,"  Herr  von  Zimmern  said 
coolly,  as  he  cast  a  side  glance  at  Albrecht, 
"  but  it  is  cunningly  fashioned,  and  —  " 

"  But  on  the  wedding  eve,"  interrupted  Al- 
brecht, somewhat  abruptly,  "no  one  gives  a  ring 
to  the  bride  save  only  her  betrothed.  All  in 
good  season,  Herr  Frederich,  she  will  doubtless 
be  glad  to  wear  thy  ring,  but  to-night  it  is  mine 
that  must  fetter  her." 

As  he  spoke,  he  leaned  forward,  and  took  the 
carbuncle  ring  from  the  hand  of  Erna,  who  was 
about  to  slip  it  on  her  slender  finger,  and  before 
any  one  could  object  or  protest  he  had  thrust  it 
into  the  embroidered  poqch  by  his  side,  and  had 
in  its  place  produced  a  second  ring  in  which 


90  ALBRECHT. 

blazed  a  ruby  so  splendid  that  it  seemed  to  emit 
sparks  of  fire. 

Across  the  face  of  Von  Zimmern  shot  a 
glance  of  baffled  rage  and  anger  so  fierce  that 
'the  priest,  who  alone  caught  sight  of  it,  shud- 
dered and  secretly  crossed  himself  under  his 
robe;  but  it  was  gone  as  quickly  as  it  came, 
and  Herr  Frederich  smiled  as  he  said: 

"  My  gems  must  needs  be  poor  beside  yours, 
my  master,  but  the  ring  had  powers  which 
made  it  not  unworthy  the  acceptance  of  the 
bride." 

"  Do  not  I  know  its  power?"  responded  Al- 
brecht,  gayly.  "  There  is  time  enough  for  the 
proving  of  its  might  without  troubling  the  bridal 
therewith." 

As  he  spoke,  he  put  the  glowing  ruby  on  the 
white  finger  of  his  betrothed,  and  raising  the 
hand  to  his  lips,  he  kissed  it  fervently. 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin !  "  exclaimed  Lady 
Adelaide,  "  what  a  gem !  It  is  like  a  coal  of 
fire.  It  is  worth  a  king's  ransom." 

"  It  is  not  rich  enough  to  be  worthy  of  the 
hand  that  graces  it,"  Albrecht  cried  joyously. 

Then,  without  waiting  for  further  speech,  he 
suddenly  caught  up  a  lute  which  lay  upon  the 
broad  ledge  of  the  open  window,  and  after  a 
few  notes  by  way  of  prelude  burst  out  into  this 
song: 


OF  THE  EVE  BEFORE  THE  WEDDING.       91 

"  My  love  has  eyes  like  the  roe, 

And  a  voice  like  the  wood-dove's  call ; 
While  her  bosom  is  white  as  the  snow 
Of  the  foam  on  the  torrent's  fall. 
Fine  her  hair  as  the  mist 
By  the  sun  golden  kissed, 
And  my  heart  she  holds  in  its  thrall. 


"  My  love  has  lips  like  the  glow 
Of  rubies  red  from  the  mine  ; 
And  her  glances  thrill  me  so 
For  her  I  'd  life  resign. 

For  their  fire  makes  my  heart 
Wake  to  tremble  and  start, 
With  a  passion  no  words  may  divine. 

"  My  love  has  a  throat  like  the  swan 
That  haunts  the  river  reeds ; 
Not  shapelier  the  dappled  fawn 
That  feeds  in  the  flower-set  meads. 
When  I  clasp  her,  no  bliss 
Has  all  earth  like  her  kiss, 
No  sweetness  her  sweetness  exceeds  !  " 


The  effect  of  these  ardent  verses  upon  the 
company  was  apparently  rather  one  of  astonish- 
ment than  of  admiration.  The  Lady  Adelaide 
simpered  and  assumed  an  expression  of  vir- 
tuous disapproval ;  Herr  von  Zimmern  laughed 


92  ALBRECHT. 

significantly  and  openly;  while  a  look  of  pain 
came  over  the  face  of  Father  Christopher. 

"  It  is  a  ballad  rather  for  the  singing  of  an 
effeminate  and  sensual  Southron,"  he  said,  "  than 
for  the  brave  and  virtuous  lips  of  a  Northern 
knight." 

"  It  is  a  foolish  tune  which  Herr  Frederich 
here  taught  me,"  returned  Albrecht,  in  too  good 
spirits  to  be  cast  down  by  the  reproof.  "  There 
is  no  harm  in  it  that  I  can  see,  save  that  it  can- 
not tell  half  that  a  lover  feels !  " 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin !  "  muttered  Lady 
Adelaide,  greatly  scandalized. 

Erna  cast  down  her  eyes  and  said  nothing; 
but  though  her  glance  fell  only  upon  the  rushes 
with  which  the  stone  floor  was  strewn,  she  saw 
still  the  form  of  Albrecht  as  he  stood  erect 
in  splendid  manly  beauty,  with  the  boar-spear 
poised  above  his  head,  ready  to  fling  it  like  a 
dart  of  light  down  the  long  hall  to  transfix  the 
head  of  the  deer  above  the  chimney-place. 


OF  THE   WEDDING  MORNING.  93 


IX 

OF  THE   WEDDING  MORNING. 

FATHER  CHRISTOPHER  lingered  long 
at  his  prayers  on  the  wedding  morning. 
There  was  in  his  heart  so  deep  concern  for  the 
good  of  his  beloved  mistress,  and  so  keenly  did 
he  feel  the  responsibility  which  rested  upon  him 
as  the  spiritual  head  of  the  castle,  that  he  could 
not  but  be  most  profoundly  anxious  that  naught 
of  evil  should  come  of  this  marriage. 

The  good  priest  was  not  without  a  secret  con- 
sciousness that  his  consent  to  the  union  of  Erna 
and  Albrecht  had  been  in  no  small  degree  due 
to  the  interest  which  the  knight  had  aroused  in 
him.  He  could  not  tell  why  he  was  so  strongly 
attracted  toward  the  stranger,  and  he  endeavored 
to  convince  himself  that  it  was  because  he  recog- 
nized in  Albrecht  the  possibilities  of  a  high  and 
spiritual  life,  and  believed  that  it  lay  within  the 
sphere  of  Erna's  influence  to  bring  these  pos- 
sibilities to  fruition.  The  fascination  of  Al- 
brecht's  personality  was  so  great,  however,  that 
it  followed  the  man  even  into  his  closet,  and 


94  ALBRECHT. 

made  him  secretly  glad  that  the  knight  should 
have  his  will,  whether  it  was  to  be  justified  to 
the  mind  of  the  priest  or  not. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  morning,  but  from 
below  the  sounds  of  the  preparations  for  the 
wedding  rose  to  Father  Christopher's  ear. 
Somewhere  over  in  the  tower  next  to  that  in 
which  was  his  cell,  there  sounded  the  tinkling 
of  a  rebec,  as  if  one  of  the  musicians  were 
practising  the  minstrelsy  with  which  the  bridal 
pair  were  to  be  attended  to  church,  and  from 
the  court  below  came  the  lusty  voice  of  a  knave 
that  heeded  not  who  slept,  but  sang  in  a  full, 
lusty  voice  a  rude  song  of  the  forest.  The 
priest  repeated  his  orisons,  but  it  was  hard  to 
keep  his  thoughts  fixed.  Sighing,  he  rose  at 
last  from  his  knees. 

"  God  grant  I  have  not  done  amiss  in  consent- 
ing to  this  marriage,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  At 
least  I  shall  soon  know  how  it  lies  with  the  soul 
of  Sir  Albrecht,  for  he  comes  to  me  for  confes- 
sion before  the  marriage.  When  I  have  shrived 
him  I  shall  be  lighter-hearted,  albeit,  God  knows, 
I  trust  to  find  no  evil  in  him.  Even  though," 
he  added  in  his  thought,  "  I  much  misdoubt  me 
of  Herr  von  Zimmern,  who  has  been  his  foster- 
father." 

The  sun  was  half-way  to  noon  when  Albrecht, 
with  his  firm,  free  stride,  crossed  the  castle 


OF  THE  WEDDING  MORNING.  95 

courtyard  to  join  Father  Christopher  in  the 
chapel,  as  had  been  arranged  between  them 
when  the  priest  had  requested  the  knight  to 
receive  shrift  before  he  was  united  in  marriage 
with  Erna.  The  baron's  bearing  had  in  it  little 
of  that  humility  which  might  have  seemed  be- 
coming in  one  who-  was  on  his  way  to  confess 
his  sins.  His  handsome  head  was  carried  well 
erect,  and  there  was  in  his  eye  not  only  the 
joy  of  the  bridegroom,  but  also  a  mischievous 
sparkle  as  of  one  who  apprehends  some  merry 
jest  which  is  forward.  As  he  walked  rapidly 
across  the  court,  he  hummed  to  himself  under 
his  breath  a  merry  tune,  ill  suited  to  his 
pious  errand. 

The  gloom  and  cool  quiet  of  the  chapel,  as 
he  entered  the  sacred  place,  checked  for  the 
moment  Albrecht's  song,  and  he  went  more 
soberly  up  the  aisle  between  the  rudely  sculp- 
tured forms  of  dead  and  gone  Von  Rittenbergs, 
recumbent  on  their  tombs  in  dismal  state,  until 
he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  Father  Chris- 
topher, who  stood  awaiting  his  penitent  at  the 
chancel.  The  chapel  had  already  been  dec- 
orated for  the  bridal,  which  indeed  was  to  take 
place  in  little  more  than  an  hour's  time,  and 
all  the  air  was  fragrant  with  the  odors  of  the 
boughs  of  pine.  The  damsel  Elsa,  who  had  had 
always  a  liking  for  the  baron,  and  who  liked 


96  ALBRECHT. 

him  none  the  less  since  the  kiss  he  had  given 
her  in  the  hall  for  her  love-song,  had  taken  it 
upon  herself  to  see  that  the  chapel  was  properly 
adorned,  and  her  skill  and  taste  were  alike  evi- 
dent from  the  result. 

"  I  have  kept  thee  waiting  long,  Father,"  Al- 
brecht  said,  as  he  approached  the  priest;  "  but 
my  servitor,  whose  illness  was  the  cause  of  my 
first  coming  to  the  castle,  is  once  more  stricken 
down,  and  in  the  delirium  of  his  fever  he  called 
for  me  so  piteously  that  his  fellow  could  not 
forbear  to  fetch  me  to  his  bedside.  He  be- 
lieves, in  his  madness,  that  he  is  beset  by  wolves, 
and  that  none  else  save  his  master  may  avail  to 
preserve  him." 

"  It  indeed  waxes  late,"  Father  Christopher 
answered,  "  and  it  is  well  on  toward  an  hour 
since  the  countess  left  me  here.  I  have  passed 
the  time  in  prayers  for  her  and  thee,  and  per- 
chance thou  hast  not  so  long  a  list  of  sins  to 
confess  that  there  will  be  lack  of  time,  although 
it  draweth  toward  noon  and  the  hour  of 
marriage." 

As  he  spoke  he  moved  toward  the  confes- 
sional, and  with  an  expression  of  gravity  which 
was  new  to  him,  the  knight  followed;  but  just 
at  the  moment  when  Albrecht  kneeled  to  begin 
the  recital  of  whatever  transgressions  might  lie 
on  his  conscience,  there  arose  without  a  horrid 


OF  THE   WEDDING  MORNING.  97 

din,  which  penetrated  the  sacred  place,  rudely 
breaking  up  the  stillness  of  the  consecrated 
shrine.  The  leathern  curtains  which  hung  be- 
fore the  entrance  were  flung  rudely  aside,  and 
with  piercing  cries  a  half-naked  figure  rushed 
forward,  waving  its  arms  and  calling  for  help 
most  piteously. 

Albrecht  and  the  priest  both  sprang  to  their 
feet,  startled  and  amazed  at  this  unexpected 
interruption ;  and  the  fleeing  figure  rushed 
down  the  nave  to  fling  itself  at  the  feet  of  the 
baron,  where  it  knelt,  clasping  his  knees  and 
revealing  in  the  dull  light  the  disordered  feat- 
ures of  the  fever-stricken  man-at-arms. 

"  The  wolves,  Master  !  "  he  shrieked  in  accents 
of  terror.  "  Save  me !  Save  me  !  " 

Down  the  aisle  of  the  chapel  came  limping 
the  sinister  figure  of  Herr  von  Zimmern,  who 
seemed  to  be  in  pursuit  of  the  sick  man. 

"  I  tried  to  stop  him,"  he  said,  with  a  singular 
smile  which  brought  a  sudden  frown  to  Al- 
brecht's  brow,  "  but  he  escaped  from  me,  and 
because  of  my  infirmity  I  could  not  keep  pace 
with  him.  He  is  stark  mad  till  this  fit  passes, 
but  after,  he  will  perchance  be  as  well-witted  as 
ever  he  has  been." 

He  stooped  over  the  sick  man,  and  endeav- 
ored to  persuade  him  to  allow  himself  to  be  led 
away;   but  the  man-at-arms  could  not  be  torn 
7 


9»  ALBRECHT. 

from  his  hold  upon  the  knees  of  Albrecht,  to 
whom  he  clung  with  the  desperate  clutch  of  a 
wretch  who  clings  for  life  to  some  last  hope. 

"  It  is  useless,"  Father  Christopher  said,  after 
they  had  for  some  moments  united  their  efforts 
in  a  vain  endeavor  to  bring  the  sick  man  to 
reason.  "  He  is  too  fully  possessed  by  his  fears 
and  the  madness  of  his  sickness  to  be  within  the 
reach  of  our  words.  He  will  yield  to  no  one 
save  to  the  baron,  and  unless  thou  art  willing, 
Sir  Knight,  to  lead  him  back  to  his  chamber,  I 
know  not  if  he  may  not  remain  here  till  the 
very  hour  set  for  thy  marriage.  It  would  but 
ill  accord  with  the  place  to  use  violence,  and  he 
is  not  minded  to  quit  his  hold  on  thee." 

The  madman  had  by  this  time  thrown  him- 
self upon  the  pavement,  as  with  heart-rending 
cries  he  called  upon  his  master  to  rescue  him 
in  his  peril,  and  not  to  leave  him  to  be  devoured 
alive.  His  yells  had  called  half  the  servants  of 
the  castle  to  the  spot,  and  the  more  supersti- 
tious of  them  crossed  themselves  in  fear  at  sight 
of  an  omen  so  doubtful  and  fearful  on  the  morn 
of  their  mistress'  wedding  day.  They  whispered 
together  of  their  fears,  and  some  of  them  re- 
called the  signs  which  had  attended  the  coming 
of  the  baron  to  the  castle. 

"  The  wood-folk  are  wroth,"  one  old  crone 
whispered  to  h.ej*  favorite  gossip.  "  They  have 


OF  THE   WEDDING  MORNING.  99 

smitten  the  churl,  and  who  knows  what  power 
they  may  have  over  the  master?  Holy  Wood 
of  the  Cross,  but  I  fear  me  for  the  well-born 
countess !  " 

The  confusion  every  moment  waxed  greater. 
The  sick  man  had  torn  off  his  clothing  until  he 
grovelled  upon  the  cold  stone  floor  wellnigh  as 
naked  as  he  had  been  born,  while  his  powerful 
hands,  as  yet  all  unwasted  by  his  sickness,  were 
clasped  about  the  legs  of  Albrecht  with  a  grip 
like  that  of  the  mountain  bear  in  its  fury  when 
the  huntsmen  have  reft  away  its  cubs  and  it 
clutches  the  dogs  in  a  last  desperate  struggle. 

Herr  von  Zimmern  stooped  down  and  took 
the  man-at-arms  strongly  by  the  shoulder. 

"  Come !  "  he  cried  in  a  deep,  penetrating 
voice ;  "  we  must  get  away.  The  gracious  baron 
will  save  thee,  only  thou  must  go  with  him 
away  from  this  place  of  danger." 

The  sick  man  seemed  to  comprehend,  for  he 
loosed  his  hold  and  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Go  with  him,  my  son,"  Father  Christopher 
said.  "  Mercy  comes  before  even  a  sacrament, 
and  none  save  thee  can  lead  this  madman  to  his 
chamber." 

"But  my  shrift?"  demanded  Albrecht,  half 
under  his  breath. 

"Thou  must  needs  be  married  without  it," 
the  priest  responded.  "  But  I  charge  thee,"  he 


100  ALBRECHT. 

added  solemnly,  speaking  so  that  his  words 
reached  the  ears  of  the  baron  only,  "  if  thou 
hast  aught  of  crime  on  thy  conscience,  that 
thou  do  not  betray  the  Lady  Erna  into  a  union 
with  thy  sin." 

The  young  man  looked  straightforwardly  into 
the  eyes  of  the  old  priest,  as  in  the  same  tone 
he  answered : 

"  If  it  be  not  a  sin  to  desire  her  love  and  to 
long  more  than  for  life  to  be  lifted  toward 
heaven  by  her,  I  have  no  sin  on  my  con- 
science, Father." 

The  priest  raised  his  hand  in  blessing,  and  the 
bystanders,  although  they  knew  nothing  of  the 
import  of  the  words  which  had  hastily  passed 
between  him  and  the  knight,  understood  the 
motion,  and  bowed  their  heads  in  reverence. 
Albrecht  as  if  struck  with  sudden  awe  fell  upon 
his  knees,  and  so  received  the  benediction  which 
served  him  instead  of  shrift  on  his  wedding  day. 
Then  rising  he  took  the  arm  of  the  demented 
man-at-arms,  who  for  the  moment  seemed  some- 
what more  quiet,  perhaps  through  exhaustion, 
and  so  led  him  away,  all  the  bystanders  follow- 
ing until  the  chapel,  with  its  stony  knights  in 
eternal  rest,  its  fragrance  of  pine  boughs  and 
of  forest  flowers,  was  left  for  a  little  deserted. 


HOW  THEY  WERE   WED.  IOI 


X 

HOW  THEY  WERE   WED. 

IT  seemed  to  the  Lady  Adelaide  as  a  matter 
not  unlike  a  scandal  and  almost  savoring  of 
impiety  for  the  last  of  the  Von  Rittenbergs  to 
be  wed  without  the  sanction  of  the  emperor, 
and  with  none  of  that  pomp  and  circumstance 
which  had  accompanied  the  bridals  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  house  from  time  immemorial.  She 
pleaded  that  at  least  the  neighboring  nobles 
might  be  summoned,  but  in  even  this  she  was 
overruled,  her  niece  declaring  that  if  they  sum- 
moned one  of  the  friends  of  the  family  they 
must  needs  bid  them  all,  and  that  this  she  would 
not  do.  She  was  content,  so  she  might  but  be 
united  to  the  knight  whom  she  loved,  that  none 
but  those  of  the  castle  stand  by,  and  that  she  be 
married  with  no  more  pomp  than  would  attend 
the  coupling  of  a  kitchen-wench  with  the  keeper 
of  the  swine. 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin  !  "  Lady  Adelaide 
cried  in  scandalized  horror.  "  Thou  art  a 
changeling.  Thou  wert  never  born  of  our  blood ; 


IO2  ALBRECHT. 

the  elf-folk  in  the  forest  changed  thee  in  thy 
cradle.  And  yet  thou  art  enough  of  a  Von 
Rittenberg  to  have  thine  own  way,"  she  mut- 
tered under  her  breath,  giving  up  the  vain 
discussion. 

So  far  as  the  emperor  was  concerned,  Lady 
Adelaide  was  really  not  much  disquieted  at 
heart,  since  with  feminine  wit  she  reasoned  that 
when  once  the  thing  was  done,  there  was  little 
likelihood  that  Charlemagne,  busy  with  his  wars 
and  the  cares  of  state,  would  take  the  trouble 
of  breaking  it.  She  took  it  upon  herself  to 
order  that  a  messenger  be  ready  to  set  out  for 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  where  the  emperor  might  per- 
haps be  found  at  this  season,  to  bear  to  his 
Majesty  the  announcement  of  the  alliance  and 
to  tender  the  homage  of  Baron  Albrecht.  It 
had  been  suggested  that  Herr  von  Zimmern  be 
entrusted  with  this  mission,  but  he  refused  it. 

"I  have  had  you  on  my  hands  from  your 
cradle,"  he  said  to  Albrecht  with  that  strange 
mingling  of  respect  and  scorn  with  which  he 
was  wont  to  address  his  master,  "  and  now  that 
you  are  disposed  of  I  am  to  be  free.  Was  not 
that  our  bargain?" 

"Truly,"  the  baron  returned,  smiling;  "I 
promised  thee  thy  freedom  on  my  wedding  day." 

Greatly  did  Herr  von  Zimmern  seem  inter- 
ested in  this  marriage,  perhaps  from  this  reason, 


HOW  THEY   WERE   WED.  1 03 

albeit  his  service  did  not  appear  to  be  so  irk- 
some that  he  had  great  reason  to  complain  of 
it.  He  set  himself  to  do  whatever  might  come 
within  the  compass  of  his  station  to  hasten  it 
onward ;  and  yet  it  came  into  the  mind  of  Lady 
Adelaide,  who  had  not  lived  the  better  part  of 
a  century  without  learning  something,  and  who 
whatever  her  natural  short-comings  was  still 
a  woman,  and  thus  understood  many  things 
which  do  not  appear  upon  the  surface,  —  it  being 
the  kind  provision  of  Nature  that  women,  who 
cannot  compass  reason,  shall  be  gifted  with 
intuition,  —  that  he  was  not  in  his  secret  heart 
so  pleased  as  he  took  pains  to  seem.  She  pon- 
dered somewhat  upon  this  contradiction,  but 
she  could  come  to  no  conclusion  in  regard  to 
it,  and  so  in  the  end  she  ceased  troubling  her- 
self about  it,  the  rather  as  she  had  just  at  this 
time  many  other  things  with  which  to  cumber 
her  head. 

There  was  not  long  delay  in  the  setting  out 
of  the  bridal  train  when  the  hour  had  come. 
At  high  noon  the  sound  of  rebecs  and  pipes 
and  tambours  made  merry  all  the  castle  as  the 
bridal  train  moved  toward  the  chapel.  Even 
as  far  as  the  solemn,  moaning  pine-tops  that 
murmured  ever  the  strange  secrets  of  the  wood, 
the  blithe  strains  sounded;  and  if  indeed  the 
wood-folk  concerned  themselves  with  the  doings 


104  ALBRECHT. 

of  the  people  in  the  castle  they  must  this  day 
have  understood  that  the  mood  of  the  dwellers 
at  Rittenberg  was  a  jocund  one. 

And  after  the  musicians  came  the  pages,  all 
in  brave  attire ;  and  after  the  pages  walked  the 
damsels,  shining  and  glowing  in  raiment  bright 
and  gay,  and  decked  with  many  a  gaud  of  gold 
and  jewel ;  and  behind  the  damsels  came  the 
bride  herself  in  all  her  state  and  all  her  fairness. 
The  Countess  Erna  was  clad  all  in  white,  her 
long  robe,  which  was  trimmed  with  the  snowy 
down  from  the  breasts  of  swans,  borne  behind 
her  by  a  pair  of  pretty  pages,  scarce  large 
enough  for  even  that  weight.  About  her  neck 
were  wound  strings  of  pearls,  so  large  and  so 
many  that  the  ivory  throat  was  scarcely  to  be 
seen  because  of  them.  In  her  hair  was  the 
tuft  of  white  heron's  feathers  which  marked  her 
rank  as  head  of  the  Von  Rittenbergs,  held  in 
place  by  a  single  pearl  so  large  and  so  round 
and  of  so  silvery  lustre  that  it  was  a  wonder  to 
see.  The  gem  had  been  given  to  her  father  by 
a  Greek  whose  life  he  had  saved  long  ago  in 
one  of  the  emperor's  campaigns  in  Italy,  and 
never  before  had  Erna  worn  it. 

After  the  countess  followed  Lady  Adelaide 
and  those  of  the  damsels  of  the  castle  who  per- 
tained rather  to  her  than  to  her  niece,  although, 
to  say  sooth,  so  little  state  had  Erna  kept 


HOW  THEY  WERE  WED.  1 05 

h^herto  that  all  the  maidens  had  seemed  to 
belong  to  her  aunt  more  than  to  her;  and  be- 
hind, at  a  proper  distance,  came  those  of  the 
household  who  were  not  of  consequence  to  walk 
with  the  bridal  train  itself. 

The  Baron  Albrecht,  for  his  part,  was  on  this 
day  clad  in  green  velvet  of  the  color  of  a  beech- 
leaf  in  the  shade,  slashed  with  samite  of  the  hue 
of  the  same  foliage  when  the  sun  shines  upon  it. 
Richly  was  his  raiment  wrought  in  gold  with 
curious  devices  of  leaf  and  blossom,  and  set 
thickly  with  gems  which  made  the  eyes  blink 
to  look  at  them,  so  bright  was  their  radiance. 
The  clasps  of  his  mantle,  and  even  those  of  his 
sandals  were  of  precious  stones,  while  about  his 
neck  was  a  collar  of  jewels  such  as  had  never 
before  been  seen  at  Rittenberg.  On  his  cap  of 
marten's  fur  was  fastened  a  carbuncle  as  large 
as  the  egg  of  the  wood-pigeon  and  as  red  as  the 
heart's  blood  of  a  rock-dove  when  it  is  spilled 
upon  the  bird's  white  breast. 

All  of  the  retainers  of  the  castle  were  there  to 
witness  the  marriage,  and  even  some  of  the  serfs 
crept  unrebuked  to  the  doors  of  the  chapel, 
where  they  could  hear  most  of  the  service  and 
haply  see  a  little,  albeit  it  was  not  to  be  expected 
that  they  could  understand  if  they  did  hear, 
although  under  the  pious  rule  of  Countess  Erna 
they  were  commanded  to  attend  Mass. 


IO6  ALBRECHT. 

The  solemn  words  were  said  at  last,  and  with 
an  emotion  which  was  unusual,  Father  Chris- 
topher united  the  maid  whose  guardian  he  had 
been  from  her  earliest  infancy  to  the  knight. 
Even  at  the  altar  there  came  upon  the  priest 
a  dim  and  nameless  fear  what  might  be  the 
results  of  this  marriage.  In  the  elevation  of 
that  hallowed  moment  he  seemed  to  catch  some 
faint  glimpse  of  startling  possibilities  which 
were  to  depend  upon  the  union,  of  momentous 
consequences  which  transcended  the  bounds 
of  ordinary  experiences,  and  of  some  mystery 
that  thrilled  him  without  his  being  able  to  grasp- 
or  to  understand  it.  He  felt  for  the  instant  a 
wonderful  uplifting,  as  of  one  called  to  take 
part  in  some  mighty  conflict,  of  which  the  out- 
come was  doubtful,  but  in  which  the  cause  was 
glorious.  It  was  as  if  he  were  seized  upon  by 
some  mystic  power  such  as  thrills  the  heart  of 
a  seer  in  the  moment  of  his  ecstasy;  as  if  his 
hand  almost  touched  some  profound  and  mighty 
secret  upon  which  depended  the  fate  of  mankind. 
As  if  in  a  vision  he  felt  about  him  the  might 
of  the  forest  and  the  terror  of  its  witchery ;  the 
powers  of  night  and  of  hell  seemed  to  surge 
around  him  in  awful  conflict  with  those  of  light ; 
he  was  as  if  for  the  moment  rapt  away  from 
the  holy  place  in  which  he  stood,  and  encom- 
passed by  the  blackness  in  which  the  wild  and 


HOW  THEY  WERE  WED.  IO/ 

dread   beings    of  the   wilderness   worked   their 
sinful  spells  against  mankind. 

Only  an  instant  did  the  vision,  if  vision  it 
were,  hold  him,  and  then  the  candles  upon 
the  altar  shone  again  upon  him;  but  the  soul  of 
Father  Christopher  was  filled  with  wild  surmise 
and  strange  questionings  what  this  might  mean. 
He  pronounced  the  nuptial  benediction  with 
lips  that  hardly  knew  what  they  said,  and  with 
eyes  which  scarcely  saw  the  pair  kneeling 
before  him  in  all  the  glory  of  youth  and 
beauty  and  the  bravery  of  their  splendid 
attire. 

It  was  to  be  expected  that  Erna  should  be 
deeply  affected  by  the  rite  which  bound  her  for 
life  and  death  to  the  knight  by  her  side.  Her 
religious  nature  was  keenly  susceptible  to  all 
the  offices  of  the  Church,  and  although  she 
might  at  this  moment  be  strongly  swayed  by 
passion  and  by  personal  sentiment,  the  occasion 
was  one  of  too  much  solemnity  to  fail  of  touch- 
ing her  profoundly.  What  most  impressed  the 
good  priest  was  the  reverential  bearing  of  the 
groom  during  the  rite.  There  was  in  the  mien 
of  Albrecht  a  gravity  and  a  respect  which  was 
to  Father  Christopher  surprising,  accustomed 
as  he  was  to  the  levity  and  joyousness  of  the 
knight.  The  baron  seemed  even  more  serious 
and  religious  in  his  attitude  than  the  bride,  so 


108  ALBRECHT. 

that  the  priest  could  not  but  wonder  at  this 
reversal  of  their  usual  attitudes. 

After  the  ceremony  there  was  a  feast  in  the 
great  hall  of  the  castle,  and  not  a  little  wine  was 
drunk,  albeit  the  most  of  it  was  consumed  be- 
low the  salt.  Never  had  Albrecht  been  so  gay. 
The  seriousness  which  Father  Christopher  had 
noted  in  the  chapel  had  vanished,  and  he  was 
like  a  roistering,  jocund  woodland  god,  over- 
flowing with  merriment.  His  mirth  was  conta- 
gious, and  as  he  jested  and  sang,  and  in  gleeful 
wise  teased  the  Lady  Adelaide,  even  the  priest 
was  constrained  to  laugh  until  the  tears  ran 
down  upon  his  wrinkled  cheeks. 

It  was  after  the  feast  was  over,  and  the 
torches  had  been  lighted,  that  Herr  von  Zim- 
mern  approached  Erna. 

"  Gracious  lady,"  he  said,  "  I  have  ventured 
to  provide  a  pastime  for  your  wedding  day.  As 
we  came  hither  through  the  forest  the  other 
day,  we  met  a  band  of  wandering  gypsies  from 
the  South.  They  are  skilful  in  the  song  and 
the  dance,  and  I  ventured  to  bid  them  to  be 
here  to-night.  They  are  in  the  courtyard,  and 
await  your  presence  to  begin  their  sports." 

Erna  hesitated  a  little,  even  while  she  thanked 
him ;  but  Albrecht  sprang  up  joyously. 

"  Oh,  the  gypsies  !  "  he  cried.  "  They  are 
almost  as  good  as  the  wood-folk  themselves, 


HOW  THEY  WERE  WED.  IOQ 

for  they  live  in  the  open  air  and  love  the 
forest." 

Seeing  that  her  husband  was  pleased,  Erna 
yielded  despite  whatever  secret  disinclination 
she  may  have  felt,  and  the  company  went  out 
upon  a  balcony  that  overlooked  the  courtyard. 
There  in  a  gay  and  picturesque  group  under 
the  flaring  torches  were  the  wandering  band, 
their  tawdry  finery  showing  in  the  wavering  and 
uncertain  light  like  real  bravery  of  attire.  The 
jugglers  tossed  the  glittering  balls;  the  dancers 
twined  themselves  lightly  through  the  measures 
of  their  strange  dances,  and  the  poor  tame  bear 
was  made  to  go  clumsily  through  his  uncouth 
antics.  The  serfs  were  clustered  in  wondering 
knots  in  the  shadows ;  the  torches  flamed,  and 
the  quaint  instruments  of  the  vagrant  musicians 
sounded  weirdly  on  the  night  air  in  the  plaintive 
tunes  of  the  wild  folk.  Erna  felt  an  unknown 
feeling  stealing  over  her,  as  if  some  incanta- 
tion were  being  performed  which  was  to  trans- 
form her  into  a  new  creature.  She  fancied  that 
secretly  Herr  von  Zimmern  watched  her  stead- 
ily; and  half  in  pleasure  and  half  in  fear  she 
shrank  close  to  her  husband's  side,  as  if  in  him 
were  strength  and  reliance. 

At  length  a  gypsy  girl  came  forward  into  the 
ring  which  her  fellows  made  for  her,  and  after 
a  short  prelude  on  the  instruments  of  the  musi- 
0 


I  10  ALBRECHT. 

cians,  began  to  sing.  Her  voice  was  of  passion- 
ate sweetness,  full  of  the  languor  of  the  South, 
the  luxurious  sensuousness  which  is  as  sweet 
as  love  and  as  enervating.  Erna's  whole  body 
trembled  with  a  sensation  such  as  she  had  never 
known,  and  she  seemed  to  herself  at  once  to 
cling  closer  to  Albrecht  and  to  desire  to  flee 
from  him.  The  song  was  one  of  the  gypsy's  life 
and  love. 

"  When  day  is  breaking, 

The  gypsy,  waking, 

His  way  is  taking 
Through  thicket  and  thorn. 

No  bird  upward  sailing 

On  glad  wing  prevailing, 

More  jocund  is  hailing 
The  gay,  laughing  morn. 

"  No  walls  may  cage  him, 

No  cares  engage  him, 

No  wars  enrage  him, 
No  castles  can  hold ; 

He  roams  with  the  breezes, 

He  loves  where  he  pleases, 

Ambition  ne'er  teases 
His  heart  free  and  bold. 

"  The  gypsy  lover 
From  dreams  that  hover 
Awakes  to  discover 
His  loved  one  nigh ; 


HOW   THEY   WERE   WED.  Ill 

Oh,  the  joy  of  the  hour 
When  hid  in  some  bower 
His  passion's  full  power 
No  word  can  deny  ! 

"  Then  lip  to  lip  meeting, 
Gives  love's  fullest  greeting, 
And  hearts  hotly  beating 

Respond  each  to  each. 

Then  breast  to  breast  straining 
Fresh  raptures  is  gaining, 
And  past  all  restraining 

Love's  ecstasies  reach  !  " 

Despite  herself,  Erna  felt  the  hot  blushes 
chasing  one  another  over  her  face.  She  leaned 
backward  to  be  in  the  shadow,  while  Albrecht 
bent  over  to  touch  under  the  chin  the  damsel 
Elsa,  who  stood  close  by  behind  the  chair  of 
the  Lady  Adelaide. 

"  By  my  sword  !  "  he  cried  gayly ;  "  but  the 
gypsy  maid's  song  is  of  warmer  stuff  than 
thine." 

Herr  Frederich  chuckled,  and  Erna  flushed 
more  deeply  still. 

"  Come,"  she  said,  rising,  "  we  have  had 
enough.  The  night  air  is  becoming  chill." 

"  And  besides,"  Herr  Frederich  said  softly, 
"  it  is  time  that  the  bride  were  conducted  to 
her  chamber." 


112  ALBRECHT. 

She  turned  away  from  him,  giving  no  sign 
if  she  heard ;  and  the  little  party  returned  to 
the  great  hall,  where  indeed  the  maidens  of  the 
castle  soon  assembled  to  lead  Erna  to  the  bri- 
dal chamber,  to  the  white  and  perfumed  bride- 
bed  which  Father  Christopher  had  blessed  with 
prayer  in  his  soul  no  less  than  upon  his  lips. 

All  white  and  blessed,  like  a  blossom  of  the 
hawthorne  over  whose  snow  the  flush  of  early 
morn  casts  a  rosy  tint,  Erna  lay  to  await  the 
quick  coming  of  the  bridegroom,  while  the  un- 
known world  of  married  love  stretched  out 
before  her,  mystic,  enticing,  yet  not  without 
dread.  One  by  one  the  steps  of  her  maidens 
died  down  the  corridor,  and  ringing  upon  its 
stone  floor  she  heard  the  footsteps  of  Albrecht, 
swift  with  eagerness.  And  as  if  with  an  instinct 
half  prophetic  she  almost  comprehended  that 
this  marriage  meant  the  saving  or  the  wrecking 
of  souls ;  so  that  when  her  husband  came  into 
the  chamber  and  bent  over  to  kiss  her,  warm 
and  flushed,  and  glowing  with  love  and  with 
laughter,  she  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck 
with  sudden  and  inexplicable  tears. 


HOW  ALBRECHT  CONFESSED. 


XI 

HOW   ALBRECHT  CONFESSED. 

THE  dawn  was  only  just  beginning  to  glow 
when  Erna  awakened  next  morning;  but 
Albrecht  had  already  arisen,  and  was  stand- 
ing, fully  dressed,  by  the  bedside.  She  started 
up  from  her  pillow  and  regarded  him  with 
surprise. 

"  Where  art  thou  going?  "  she  asked.  "  Surely 
thou  wert  not  trying  to  steal  away  without  my 
knowing? " 

Albrecht  bent  over  and  kissed  her  fondly. 

"  I  am  going,"  he  answered,  in  a  tone  of 
strange  tenderness  and  solemnity,  "  to  the 
chamber  of  Father  Christopher.  I  was  inter- 
rupted yesterday  when  I  should  have  made 
confession." 

"  Come  again  quickly !  "  Erna  cried,  putting 
up  her  white  arms  to  clasp  them  about  her 
husband's  neck. 

He  returned  the  embrace  with  passionate 
eagerness. 

"  How  can  I  ever  repay  thee,"  he  murmured, 


114  ALBRECHT. 

"  for  what  thou  givest  me !  But  at  least,  sweet- 
heart," he  added,  as  he  freed  himself  from  her 
clinging  arms,  "  I  have  at  last  learned  what  thou 
didst  mean  when  thou  didst  reprove  me  for 
kissing  the  damsel  in  the  hall;  and  henceforth  I 
cannot  care  for  the  kisses  of  any  save  of  thee 
only." 

There  was  in  Albrecht's  mien  something 
which  was  new  to  Erna,  and  which  affected  her 
profoundly.  After  he  was  gone  she  lay  think- 
ing of  the  grave,  half-wondering  expression  of 
his  handsome  face.  She  felt  some  subtile 
change  in  him  so  strongly  that  it  seemed  as  if 
the  real  alteration  must  be  in  herself.  The 
jocund,  sportive  air  with  which  he  had  always 
treated  her,  even  since  their  betrothal,  seemed 
to  have  given  place  to  a  tender  and  almost 
adoring  manner  which  touched  her  deeply 
while  it  made  her  flush  with  pleasure. 

Father  Christopher  was  at  his  orisons  when 
Albrecht  presented  himself  at  the  door  of  his 
little  chamber,  high  up  in  the  western  tower, 
from  whose  narrow  windows  the  kindly  and 
pious  old  man  could  see  the  first  gleams  of  the 
morning  sun,  and  the  last  fading  glimmer  of 
the  dying  day,  and  from  which  he  could  look 
far  over  the  wild  and  haunted  forest  which 
stretched  like  a  sea  about  the  hill  on  which  the 
castle  stood.  The  priest  rose  from  his  knees 


HOW   ALBRECHT   CONFESSED.  11$ 

and  opened  the  door,  the  surprise  he  felt  at  the 
sight  of  the  baron  appearing  undisguisedly  in 
his  face. 

"  Good  morrow,  Father,"  the  knight  said, 
advancing  somewhat  hesitatingly  into  the 
chamber. 

"  Good  morrow,  my  son,"  the  priest  re- 
sponded, regarding  his  visitor  curiously.  "  Is 
it  well  with  the  countess  ?  " 

"  All  is  well  with  her,"  answered  Albrecht, 
gravely,  and  with  something  not  unlike  timidity 
appearing  in  his  manner;  "unless,"  he  added 
with  sudden  vehemence,  "  it  be  not  well  that 
she  hath  wed  with  me." 

The  face  of  Father  Christopher  became  in- 
stantly grave. 

"Why  dost  thou  say  that?"  he  demanded 
almost  fiercely,  coming  closer  to  the  knight. 

"  Nay,  Father,"  Albrecht  said,  meeting  the 
eyes  of  the  other  with  a  deep  and  grave  regard 
thaf  did  not  falter,  "  I  know  not  that  it  be  not 
well,  and  I  have  not  knowingly  done  her  harm. 
Only,"  he  continued,  his  tone  changing  suddenly 
into  one  of  entreaty  and  profound  emotion,  "  I 
cannot  tell  what  I  may  have  done.  Bless  me, 
Father,  and  I  will  tell  thee  all.  I  have  sore 
need  of  thy  guidance." 

He  fell  on  his  knees  as  he  spoke,  and  half 
mechanically  the  bewildered  priest  extended 


Il6  ALBRECHT. 

his  hands  in  benediction.  The  baron  re- 
mained kneeling  for  a  moment  in  the  attitude  of 
prayer,  though  his  lips  did  not  move.  Then  he 
rose,  and  began  to  pace  up  and  down  the  little 
chamber  with  long  strides. 

"  Father,"  he  said,  "  it  is  an  awful  thing  to 
possess  a  soul.  Had  I  known  —  " 

The  priest  seated  himself  and  watched  his 
visitor  with  concern  and  curiosity.  As  Albrecht 
broke  off  and  walked  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
floor  and  brows  knit,  Father  Christopher  said 
aloud,  although  he  was  really  speaking  only  to 
himself: 

"  How  ill  was  it  that  that  madman  broke 
in  upon  us  yesterday !  I  should  not  be  in 
this  painful  uncertainty  but  for  that  unhappy 
chance  which  prevented  thy  confession." 

"Father,"  the  other  replied,  turning  toward 
him,  "  it  was  not  a  chance.  The  man  did 
but  act  a  part  that  Herr  von  Zimmern  taught 
him.  It  was  done  that  I  need  not  confess." 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  priest,  springing  to 
his  feet.  "  Thou  hast  mocked  at  the  holy  sac- 
rament !  Thou  wentest  to  the  altar  with  a  lie 
on  thy  lips ;  thou  —  " 

"  Wait !  "  Albrecht  interrupted,  with  an  air  of 
noble  authority  which  arrested  his  companion's 
words  and  even  somewhat  reassured  him.  "  I 
have  come  to  tell  thee  everything,  and  thou 


HOW  ALBRECHT  CONFESSED.  1 1/ 

wilt  see  that  I  was  innocent  because  I  knew 
not  what  I  did." 

"  How  can  that  be?  "  Father  Christopher  re- 
sponded. "  Surely,  that  it  is  impiety  to  trifle 
with  the  sacraments  is  known  to  every  man." 

Albrecht  paused  in  his  agitated  walk,  and 
for  a  moment  stood  regarding  the  priest  with  a 
strange  look. 

"To  every  man,  yes,"  at  length  he  responded, 
"  but  not  to  me.  I  am  a  kobold." 

The  priest  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  cry  of 
astonishment  and  horror.  Like  a  flash  came 
the  remembrance  of  all  the  strange  circum- 
stances which  attended  the  coming  of  the  baron 
and  his  stay  at  Rittenberg.  He  grew  pale  with 
anger  and  dread. 

"  A  kobold !  "  he  cried.  "  One  of  the  ac- 
cursed, soulless  race !  " 

"  Soulless  no  longer,"  Albrecht  murmured, 
bending  his  head  as  if  against  a  storm. 

"What  hast  tHou  done!"  the  priest  con- 
tinued. "  How  hast  thou  dared  to  wed  the 
countess  with  such  a  secret  between  you?" 

"  Father,"  the  baron  returned,  laying  his 
hand  upon  the  other's  arm,  and  speaking  with 
more  coolness  than  could  have  been  expected, 
"  it  is  only  to-day  when  I  awake  with  a  soul,  that 
I  realize  what  I  have  done.  How  could  I  know 
before  ?  I  was  like  the  beasts  in  the  forest,  and 


Il8  ALBRECHT. 

I  have  understood  good  and  evil  only  as  they. 
Now  that  the  higher  light  has  burst  upon  me,  it 
dazzles  and  blinds  me.  I  see  only  that  I  have 
wronged  her  whom  now  I  would  give  my  life 
to  save  from  harm.  She  has  given  me  a  soul, 
and  by  it  I  realize  how  unfit  I  am  to  be  her 
mate.  Help  me,  Father,  for  with  all  the 
strength  of  my  new  soul  I  love  her,  love  her, 
love  her !  " 

The  most  profound  feeling  thrilled  in  Al- 
brecht's  voice  as  he  pronounced  these  words. 
He  sank  down  at  the  feet  of  his  companion, 
and  on  his  knees  he  clasped  the  other's 
hand. 

"  I  am  confused,  blinded,"  he  went  on.  "  The 
prospect  that  opens  before  me  is  so  vast  that 
it  overwhelms  me.  I  have  never  feared  any- 
thing in  my  life,  Father ;  but  of  this  thing  which 
thou  callest  a  soul  that  has  come  to  me  I  am 
afraid,  I  am  afraid,  Father  Christopher." 

The  priest  was  not  unnattfrally  overcome  by 
a  situation  so  far  aside  from  any  previous  ex- 
perience of  his  life.  His  first  thought  was  that 
he  had  to  deal  with  a  madman,  but  there  was  in 
the  tones  and  manner  of  the  baron  that  which 
compelled  his  belief.  He  could  not  understand, 
but  he  was  too  kindly  not  to  be  deeply  moved 
by  the  emotion  of  his  companion,  and  he  wisely 
determined  to  learn  as  quickly  and  as  clearly  as 


HOW   ALBRECHT   CONFESSED.  I  19 

possible  the  real  facts  of  the  strange  situation, 
in  order  that  he  might  determine  what  was  his 
own  duty  in  the  case.  He  raised  Albrecht  from 
the  floor,  and  motioned  him  to  a  seat. 

"  My  son,"  he  said  gravely  but  not  unkindly, 
"  thou  must  be  calm,  and  thou  .must  tell  me 
everything,  that  I  may  know  how  to  advise  thee 
and  how  to  act  myself.  Relate  all,  from  the 
very  beginning." 

Albrecht  sank  into  the  chair  toward  which 
the  priest  waved  his  hand,  and  for  a  moment  he 
sat  with  his  chin  in  his  hand,  his  full  chestnut 
beard  pushed  up  so  that  it  half  covered  his 
cheeks. 

"  I  know  not  where  to  begin,  Father,"  he 
said,  "  unless  it  be  at  my  birth.  My  father  was 
king  of  the  kobolds  in  the  Neiderwasser  valley, 
and  a  brave  and  merry  tribe  they  are.  My 
mother  died  at  my  birth;  and  as  this  is  a  thing 
which  seldom  happens  with  our  race,  I  was  al- 
ways looked  upon  as  destined  for  some  great  or 
strange  destiny.  When  I  was  four  or  five  years 
old,  my  father  caught  Herr  von  Zimmern  in 
the  forest  where  he  was  hunting,  and  brought 
him  home  to  the  mountain  caves  where  we 
dwelt,  that  he  might  teach  me  all  knightly,  skill, 
for  we  kobolds  are  always  jealous  of  the  arts  of 
knighthood." 

"  But  did  Herr  von  Zimmern  desire  to  stay  in 


120  ALBRECHT.    ' 

such  strange  company?  "  asked  Father  Christo- 
pher, whose  countenance  expressed  the  greatest 
astonishment  at  this  tale. 

"  He  had  no  choice,"  rejoined  Albrecht. 
"Once  he  tried  to  escape,  and  my  father 
houghed  him,  that  he  should  never  again  be 
able  to  travel  through  the  forests  fast  enough 
to  give  trouble  in  bringing  him  back." 

The  priest  shuddered,  and  the  other  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life  seemed  to  perceive  the 
cruelty  of  this  deed. 

"  My  father,"  he  said  humbly,  "  had  no 
soul." 

Father  Christopher's  expression  of  horror 
changed  to  one  of  pity;  and  with  a  sigh  Al- 
brecht went  on  with  his  narrative. 

"  I  was  bred  up  at  home,"  he  said,  "  but  now 
and  then  Herr  von  Zimmern  has  taken  me  to 
the  cities,  and  to  the  fairs  of  the  country,  and 
now  and  then  to  a  tourney  that  I  might  prove 
my  knightly  prowess.  My  father  was  killed  in 
an  avalanche  some  ten  years  since.  He  had 
offended  the  mountain  sprites,  and  they  lay  in 
wait  for  him.  I  have  lived  with  Herr  von 
Zimmern  since,  and  he  has  been  my  servant 
because  I  am  ruler  as  my  father  was.  It  was 
he  who  told  me  of  the  delights  of  possessing 
a  soul,  and  that  a  kobold  might  win  one  if  a 
mortal  maiden  should  love  him  with  her  whole 


HOW  ALBRECHT  CONFESSED.  121 

heart  and  wed  him.  It  was  for  this  that  he 
brought  me  to  Rittenberg,  and  it  was  for  this 
that  I  wooed  its  mistress." 

There  was  a  deep  silence  in  the  chamber  as 
Albrecht  ceased  speaking.  Strongly  moved  as 
he  was  by  the  confession,  Father  Christopher 
felt  his  heart  so  strongly  yearn  toward  the 
baron,  and  so  touched  was  he  by  the  other's 
evident  contrition,  that  he  could  not  find  it  in 
his  heart  to  speak  the  condemnation  which  the 
knight's  course  might  merit.  It  was  now  too 
late,  moreover,  to  prevent  the  mischief,  and  there 
seemed  more  wisdom  in  considering  whether  it 
were  not  possible  to  comply  with  Albrecht's 
agonized  request,  and  to  aid  him  to  become 
worthy  of  his  wife  rather  than  to  make  any 
endeavor  to  separate  them.  If  this  might  be 
done,  it  would  be  the  saving  of  a  soul ;  and 
however  it  had  been  come  by,  if  Albrecht  had 
indeed  gained  a  spirit,  it  demanded  the  priest's 
best  efforts  to  bring  it  to  salvation. 

"  My  son,"  the  priest  said  after  some  moments' 
reflection,  "  what  thou  hast  done  would  indeed 
be  a  grievous  sin  if  thou  hadst  been  a  mortal, 
and  I  know  not  whether  it  is  to  be  called  a  sin 
as  it  is  or  no.  But  now  at  least  thou  hast  a 
soul,  and  it  is  mortal  sin  to  live  unbaptized." 

"  I  was  afraid,"  Albrecht  said  with  simple 
candor  and  with  an  air  of  relief,  "  that  thou 


122  ALBRECHT. 

vvouldst  command  me  to  leave  my  wife;  and 
that  I  could  not  do." 

"  No,"  the  priest  answered,  "  whom  God 
through  the  Church  hath  joined  are  not  lightly 
to  be  put  asunder;  but  the  rite  of  baptism  is 
not  to  be  neglected  for  a  single  hour." 

"  I  know  so  little  of  these  things,"  Albrecht 
murmured  doubtfully. 

"  The  priests  of  the  Great  Emperor,"  an- 
swered the  old  man,  "  administer  baptism  to 
the  barbarians  in  token  that  they  desire  Chris- 
tian light,  and  I  can  do  no  less  for  thee,  who  art 
in  a  devout  mind." 

Albrecht  leaned  forward  in  his  chair  and  put 
out  his  hand  half  timidly  to  touch  that  of  the 
other. 

"  I  feel  that  I  am  ignorant  of  everything,"  he 
said.  "Father,  it  is  like  suddenly  coming  into 
a  strange  land  where  I  know  not  even  the 
tongue  that  I  should  speak.  I  am  afraid  to 
go  forward,  lest  I  stumble  into  pitfalls  I  do  not 
see." 

Father  Christopher  laid  his  wrinkled  hand 
kindly  upon  that  of  his  penitent. 

"  But  the  way  will  become  clear,"  he  said, 
smiling.  "  Only  follow  the  light  that  is  given 
thee,  and  pray  to  God  and  his  saints." 

"  But  I  know  not  how  to  pray." 

"  My  son,"  the  priest  responded  with  a  smile 


HOW   ALBRECHT   CONFESSED.  123 

which  comforted  Albrecht  more  than  words 
could  have  done,  "  our  Great  Emperor  has  said 
in  his  Capitularies :  '  Let  none  suppose  that 
prayer  cannot  be  made  to  God  save  in  three 
tongues,  for  God  is  adored  in  all  tongues,  and 
man  is  heard  if  he  do  but  ask  for  the  things 
that  be  right.'  Be  of  good  cheer,  my  son;  God 
would  not  give  a  soul  and  not  add  enough 
knowledge  for  its  salvation." 

There  was  in  the  mien  of  Albrecht,  as  he 
knelt  to  receive  the  rite  of  baptism,  the  showing 
forth  of  great  feeling.  He  had  the  air  of  one 
who  comes  into  the  fruit  of  a  quest  with  joy, 
yet  who  regards  that  which  he  has  won  with 
something  of  doubt  and  secret  awe ;  while 
withal  it  was  evident  that  to  his  mind  did  this 
christening  seem  a  thing  which  should  serve  in 
a  sort  as  a  talisman  to  defend  him  from  this 
strange  and  awful  guest  that  had  come  to  dwell 
within  him,  but  which  even  yet  scarce  seemed 
a  part  of  himself.  He  was  as  one  who  knew 
not  himself,  but  who  was  rather  confused  than 
enlightened  by  the  new  vision  which  had 
been  imparted  by  the  miracle  that  had  been 
wrought. 

"  Father,"  he  asked  hesitatingly,  "  my  wife, 
must  I  tell  her?" 

The  priest  considered  a  moment. 

"  Dost  thou  wish  to  tell  her? "  he  inquired. 


124  ALBRECHT. 

"  Would  to  God  that  she  had  known !  "  was 
Albrecht's  answer,  "  but  how  can  I  tell  her 
now?  What  if  she  should  turn  against  me?" 

The  strength  of  his  newly  found  soul  seemed 
to  go  out  in  his  love  for  Erna,  and  he  was  white 
and  trembling  at  the  thought  of  losing  her 
affection.  Father  Christopher  regarded  him 
keenly,  with  sympathy  and  complexity  strug- 
gling in  his  mind. 

"  Now  thou  needst  not  tell  her,"  he  said. 
"  The  time  may  come ;  but  now  strive  to  become 
worthy  of  her  whiteness,  her  innocence,  her 
piety.  If  thou  wouldst  be  sure  of  her  love,  my 
son,  look  upon  this  as  a  respite  that  thou 
mayest  be  one  soul  with  hers  when  the  day 
comes  that  she  must  be  told.  And  of  this  be 
sure,"  the  priest  continued,  his  eye  kindling  as 
if  some  higher  power  were  speaking  through 
him,  "  since  thou  hast  won  thy  soul  through  her, 
it  is  with  hers  that  thine  must  stand  or  fall.  If 
thou  shalt  drag  hers  down,  there  can  be  no 
salvation  for  thine." 


HOW  THE  MORGENGABE  WAS  BESTOWED.    1 25 


XII 

HOW   THE    MORGENGABE   WAS   BESTOWED. 

A  LBRECHT  walked  slowly  back  to  his 
1\  chamber  after  he  had  left  the  priest,  all 
his  mind  in  a  confused  whirl  of  strange  and  new 
emotions.  He  could  not  find  the  old  self  in 
this  man  whom  he  had  become.  He  was  still 
within  the  shadow  of  the  awe  which  had  fallen 
upon  him  when  he  awakened  in  the  early  dawn 
a  human  being,  and  he  still  thrilled  with  the 
reverential  dread  which  had  pierced  him  as  the 
waters  of  baptism  were  laid  upon  his  head. 

Erna  had  not  yet  risen,  but  had  fallen  into 
a  light  sleep ;  and  as  he  came  to  the  bedside 
she  softly  murmured  his  name,  as  if  she  were 
even  in  her  morning  dream  conscious  that  he 
had  returned.  Her  white  throat  was  bare,  and 
from  her  lovely  bosom  the  draperies  were  half 
displaced,  so  that  its  rounded  swell  melted  into 
a  foam  of  lace  as  if  she  were  Aphrodite  just 
emerging  from  the  waves.  All  his  newly  found 
earnestness  fell  from  Albrecht  like  a  garment, 
and  he  was  only  conscious  of  his  wife  and  his 


126  ALBRECHT. 

passion  for  her ;  albeit  his  love  was  not  to-day 
the  selfish  desire  of  the  kobold  alone,  as  it  had 
been  last  night.  Fired  by  her  beauty,  he  bent 
over  and  kissed  her.  She  awoke  with  a  smile 
that  melted  into  a  blush  as  she  saw  the  ardent 
eyes  of  Albrecht  bent  upon  her  and  felt  his 
embrace  steal  about  her.  She  let  him  lift  her 
to  kiss  her  again,  and  then  she  hid  her  shining 
face  in  his  breast. 

"  Now  thou  must  go,"  she  said,  as  she  re- 
turned his  embrace.  "  They  will  stay  for  us 
in  the  hall.'  Send  me  my  damsel,  and  I  will 
be  ready  very  quickly." 

"  Yes,"  he  cried,  springing  up  with  all  his  old 
joyousness;  "be  thou  as  swift  as  may  be,  that 
we  may  bestow  upon  thee  the  Morgengabe." 

The  Lady  Adelaide,  after  the  manner  of  her 
kind,  had  been  most  curious  in  regard  to  the 
Morgmgabe.  Her  maid  Elsa  had  plied  the  re- 
tainers of  Baron  von  Waldstein  with  questions, 
and  the  Lady  Adelaide  herself  had  not  been 
above  some  cunning  attempts  to  extract  from 
Herr  von  Zimmern  somewhat  touching  the 
nature  and  extent  of  the  bridegroom's  ability 
and  probable  liberality  in  this  direction,  but 
neither  had  obtained  any  definite  information. 
Herr  Frederich  had  replied  that  his  master  cer- 
tainly had  the  means  and  the  disposition  to  do 
things  upon  a  grand  scale,  but  he  professed 


HOW  THE   MORGENGABE   WAS   BESTOWED.    I2/ 

complete  ignorance  as  to  Baron  Albrecht's  ac- 
tual intentions,  a  statement  which  Lady  Ade- 
laide took  the  liberty  of  doubting,  as  it  seemed 
probable  that  the  orders  which  her  newly  made 
nephew  had  sent  home  had  been  executed 
through  Herr  von  Zimmern.  As  nothing  fur- 
ther was  to  be  got  out  of  this  functionary,  how- 
ever, and  as  Elsa  found  the  men  of  the  baron 
equally  uncommunicative,  there  was  no  help  for 
it,  but  curiosity  must  wait  unsatisfied  until  the 
bridegroom's  gift  should  be  bestowed. 

The  Lady  Adelaide,  her  black  eyes  shining 
with  excitement,  was  already  in  the  great  hall 
when  Albrecht  and  his  bride  entered,  and 
Father  Christopher  was  not  far  behind.  All  the 
household  gathered,  for  the  bestowing  of  the 
Morgengabe  was  an  important  ceremony  which 
hardly  ranked  below  that  of  the  bridal.  The 
damsel  Elsa,  who  could  no  more  help  coquet- 
ting than  she  could  help  breathing,  took  advan- 
tage of  a  chance  which  for  a  moment  brought 
her  face  to  face  with  Baron  Albrecht  to  cast 
upon  him  one  of  her  most  languishing  glances, 
but  to  her  surprise  and  mayhap  vexation  he  only 
smiled  good-humoredly  like  one  who  compre- 
hended thoroughly  her  wiles,  and  passed  on  to 
the  side  of  Erna,  who  had  already  taken  her 
place  in  readiness  for  the  entrance  of  the  bear- 
ers of  her  husband's  gift. 


128  ALBRECHT. 

"Body  of  Saint  Fridolin !  "  muttered  Elsa  to 
herself,  unconsciously  using  her  mistress's  fa- 
vorite expletive,  "  but  the  wind  has  changed, 
methinks,  since  he  touched  me  under  the  chin 
last  night.  Marriage  has  tamed  you  quickly, 
my  Lord  Baron !  But  we  may  see  wonders 
yet" 

And  now  with  a  peal  of  music,  a  wild  strain 
which  the  retainers  of  the  baron  had  learned 
from  no  human  master,  the  great  doors  were 
thrown  open  and  the  little  train  of  Von  Wald- 
stein's  followers  entered.  Behind  the  musicians 
walked  Herr  von  Zimmern,  and  after  him  fol- 
lowed six  servitors,  each  pair  bearing  between 
them  a  casket  of  goodly  size  and  apparently  of 
some  weight. 

"  The  baron's  Morgengabe  does  not  take  up 
too  much  room,"  murmured  Elsa  in  the  ear  of 
Lady  Adelaide,  behind  whom  she  stood,  with 
the  familiarity  of  long  and  close  service. 

"  Hush,  simpleton  !  "  her  mistress  responded. 
"  If  those  caskets  hold  jewels,  he  is  giving  her 
a  king's  ransom." 

The  bringers  of  the  Morgengabe  marched  up 
the  long  hall,  and  saluting  the  company,  the 
musicians  fell  back  and  ended  their  weird  re- 
frain. Herr  von  Zimmern  stopped  before  Erna, 
and  made  a  sign  to  the  first  pair  of  his  followers 
to  set  down  their  burden  at  her  feet. 


HOW  THE  MORGEXGABE  WAS   BESTOWED.    1 29 

"  Gracious  lady,"  Albrecht  said,  indicating  it 
with  his  hand,  "  deign  to  accept  this  casket  as 
a  part  of  the  unworthy  Morgengabe  that  I 
offer." 

At  a  sign  from  Herr  von  Zimmern,  the  thralls 
threw  back  the  lid  and  lifted  out  the  trays  of 
the  casket,  while  a  murmur  of  astonishment  a"nd 
delight  ran  through  the  hall.  Within,  in  a  glow- 
ing heap,  in  strings  and  clusters  and  singly,  lay 
the  most  glorious  carbuncles  and  topazes  and 
sapphires  that  had  ever  been  seen  at  Rittenberg, 
where,  too,  there  had  been  some  notable  jewels 
in  times  gone  by. 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin !  "  cried  the  old 
great-aunt.  "  Oh,  that  I  were  young  and  had 
married  thee,  Baron  !  " 

A  sunbeam  shone  through  a  high  window 
and  fell  upon  the  gems,  making  them  glow  with 
all  the  hues  of  the  rainbow.  Erna  knelt  down 
beside  the  glittering  heap,  an  exclamation  of 
surprise  and  pleasure  on  her  lips.  She  took 
up  in  her  hands  now  one  and  then  another  of 
the  splendid  bawbles,  her  woman's  love  of  finery 
and  her  sense  of  beauty  alike  appealed  to  by 
the  wonderful  stones.  From  the  treasures  she 
selected  a  string  of  magnificent  sapphires,  blue 
as  the  sky  in  springtime,  and  clasped  it  about 
her  throat.  She  said  not  a  word,  but  her  look 
satisfied  her  husband.  At  a  sign  from  him, 
9 


I3O  ALBRECHT. 

Herr  von  Zimmern  moved  the  casket  aside,  and 
had  the  second  set  in  its  place.  This  in  its  turn 
was  opened,  and  within  were  gems  more  splen- 
did and  more  precious  than  in  the  first;  em- 
eralds, rubies,  and  diamonds.  The  wealth  of  the 
coffer  was  confusing,  so  great  was  it. 

"  God's  blood  !  "  cried  out  the  Lady  Ade- 
laide, falling  back  upon  the  oath  which  she 
kept  for  the  very  last  extremity ;  "  it  is  the 
ransom  of  a  kingdom  rather  than  of  a  king. 
Should  the  Huns  hear  of  this  Morgengabe  they 
might  well  come  from  the  North  for  no  other 
purpose  than  to  capture  it.  By  my  soul !  Herr 
Baron,  one  would  think  that  thou  wert  in  league 
with  the  gnomes  to  be  possessed  of  jewels  like 
these." 

"  I  am  on  friendly  terms  with  them,"  he  an- 
swered, his  truthfulness  passing  as  a  jest. 

Father  Christopher  said  not  a  word,  but  he 
observed  how  a  sudden  look  of  malice  darted 
through  the  eyes  of  Herr  von  Zimmern  at  the 
words  of  Lady  Adelaide,  and  how  he  smiled  at 
the  reply  of  his  master.  The  good  priest  was 
troubled  in  his  mind  at  the  sight  of  all  this 
wealth  of  gems.  He  saw  how  Erna's  eyes 
shone,  and  with  what  fondness  she  gazed  upon 
the  gleaming,  glancing  stones ;  and  he  saw, 
too,  how  the  expression  of  the  face  of  Albrecht, 
as  he  regarded  the  treasures  and  the  delight 


HOW   THE   MORGENGABE   WAS   BESTOWED.     131 

of  his  bride,  lost  the  look  of  reverence  and  ear- 
nestness which  it  had  worn  when  he  left  the 
priest's  chamber,  and  took  on  an  expression 
of  greed  and  passion.  The  old  man  sighed, 
and  looked  away  as  still  another  casket,  the 
third  and  last,  was  brought  forward  and  opened 
at  the  feet  of  Erna. 

If  the  third  casket  when  it  was  opened  did 
not  shine  with  so  great  a  splendor  as  did  the 
others,  its  contents  were  none  the  less  wonderful 
and  beautiful.  It  was  filled  with  pearls  of  the 
most  clear  and  exquisite  sheen,  and  with  opals 
of  fires  as  varied  as  the  changing  hues  of  the 
sunset,  or  of  the  foam-bubbles  on  a  mountain- 
stream  rocking  in  the  sunlight  with  the  swift- 
ness of  the  current. 

Words  failed  them  all  as  they  looked  at  the 
three  caskets,  and  even  Lady  Adelaide  was 
reduced  to  inarticulate  ejaculations  of  amaze- 
ment and  admiration.  Erna  still  said  nothing, 
save  now  and  then  to  cry  out  in  wonder  at  the 
glory  of  some  jewel  more  magnificent  than  its 
fellows,  but  she  paused  now  and  then  in  her 
gloating  over  the  treasure  to  take  her  husband's 
hand  and  press  it  in  a  sort  of  ecstasy  of  fond 
delight 

"  That  is  all  the  Morgcngabe  I  have  to  offer 
thee,"  Albrecht  said  with  a  smile,  as  the  last 
casket  was  opened.  "  I  cannot  pretend  that  it 


132  ALBRECHT. 

is  worthy  of  thy  beauty,  but  it  will  make  me 
happy  that  thou  shouldst  accept  it." 

"  That  is,  forsooth,  but  false  modesty,"  Father 
Christopher  broke  in  with  a  brusqueness  quite 
unusual  in  him.  "  The  gift  is  one  which  Charle- 
magne himself  need  not  be  ashamed  of;  and 
indeed  it  is  of  too  great  splendor  for  simple  folk 
like  those  who  are  not  sovereigns  but  subjects." 

Albrecht  turned  toward  him  with  a  fleeting 
expression  of  disquiet  which  was  instantly 
chased  away  by  a  jovial  smile. 

"  But  the  countess  is  a  sovereign,  at  least  of 
me  and  mine,."  he  retorted. 

"  Doubtless  the  baron  thinks  the  price  small 
to  pay  for  the  joys  of  his  wedding  night,"  broke 
in  Herr  Frederich  with  a  laugh. 

Erna  flushed  and  bent  lower  over  the  pearls 
she  was  examining,  while  Albrecht  turned 
haughtily  upon  Herr  von  Zimmern  with  a  look 
of  rdbuke  under  which  the  other  dropped  his 
head.  Bowing  profoundly  to  the  company, 
Herr  Frederich  made  a  sign  to  the  musicians, 
and  as  they  again  took  up  their  wild  strain  and 
led  the  way  down  the  hall,  he  followed  with  the 
bearers  who  had  accompanied  him  to  bring  in 
the  caskets. 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Albrecht  found 
himself  penetrated  with  a  sense  of  disgust  and 
of  distrust  of  his  teacher  as  he  looked  after  him. 


HOW  THE   MORGENGABE  WAS   BESTOWED.    133 

He  felt  for  the  first  time  that  the  relations  of 
himself  and  his  wife  were  too  sacred  to  be 
jested  upon,  and  it  seemed,  moreover,  as  if  his 
new  powers  gave  him  an  insight  into  the  true 
nature  of  Herr  von  Zimmern  which  he  had 
never  possessed  before ;  so  that  one  of  the  ear- 
liest results  of  his  winning  the  quest  to  which 
he  had  been  incited  by  his  instructor  was  the 
springing  of  an  instinctive  repulsion  from  the 
latter  as  from  an  evil  thing. 

All  this,  however,  was  but  the  feeling  of  an 
instant  as  he  stood  in  the  hall  and  watched  the 
delight  of  Erna  over  the  jewels.  He  laughed 
at  her  childlike  surprise  and  delight,  and  jested 
with  the  Lady  Adelaide  in  his  accustomed 
fashion.  He  even  had  a  smile  for  Elsa  when 
that  forward  maiden,  behind  the  backs  of  the 
ladies,  held  a  great  carbuncle,  as  large  as  a 
pigeon's  egg,  up  to  her  ear,  and  pretended  to 
find  the  weight  unbearable.  But  at  last  a 
chance  word  of  Erna's  changed  again  his 
mood. 

"  Look !  "  she  said,  holding  up  a  rope  of 
pearls,  "  they  are  as  large  again  as  those  the 
emperor  gave  to  the  Madonna  at  Mayence." 

And  at  the  name  of  the  Madonna  Albrccht 
remembered  his  baptism,  and  the  burden  of  his 
soul  once  more  fell  upon  him. 


134  ALBRECHT. 


XIII 
HOW   THE    DAYS   SPED   AT    RITTENBERG. 

IN  the  life  of  the  late  Count  von  Rittenberg 
it  had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  Father  Christo- 
pher to  see  not  a  few  strange  things.  He  had 
accompanied  that  warrior  in  several  of  his  cam- 
paigns, and  he  had  seen  the  fierce  Huns  and 
the  gigantic  Saxons,  with  their  barbaric  orna- 
ments of  beaten  gold,  their  dress  of  skins,  and 
their  strange  weapons.  He  had  more  than  once 
pondered  in  his  mind  whether  these  hordes  of 
the  dark  North  had  human  souls,  at  least  before 
the  Church  had  set  upon  them  the  seal  of 
baptism  and  thus  forever  marked  them  as  sepa- 
rated from  the  beasts  of  the  field  or  the  forest 
which  to  the  eye  of  the  priest  they  so  much 
resembled. 

All  that  he  had  hitherto  seen,  however,  faded 
into  insignificance  in  his  mind  when  compared 
with  that  which  was  now  daily  before  his  eyes. 
He  seemed  to  himself  sometimes  involved  in 
some  strange  dream  from  which  he  might  at 
any  moment  awake  with  only  a  more  or  less 


HOW  THE   DAYS   SPED  AT   RITTENBERG.      135 

confused  remembrance  of  what  it  had  been.  His 
old  vague  questionings  concerning  the  souls  of 
the  Huns  recurred  to  his  mind  ;  but  the  perplex- 
ing thing  was  that  they  who  really  had  souls 
should  have  so  completely  seemed  to  lack  them, 
while  Baron  Albrecht,  with  his  magnificent 
beauty,  his  manly  bearing,  his  knightly  skill 
and  courtesy,  should  have  in  truth  been  with- 
out an  immortal  spirit.  The  secret  of  which 
the  priest  had  been  made  the  repository  so 
absorbed  his  attention  that  he  could  scarcely 
give  either  thought  or  interest  to  anything  else, 
and  not  infrequently  did  Erna  laughingly  assure 
him  that  his  one  occupation  in  life  seemed  to 
have  become  watching  her  husband. 

It  was  noticeable  how  much  Erna  had  changed 
since  she  had  known  Albrecht.  Even  Father 
Christopher,  who  so  deeply  loved  her  that  he 
had  secretly  regarded  her  as  perfection  and 
therefore  could  conceive  of  no  possible  altera- 
tion in  her,  was  not  so  blind  that  he  failed  to 
appreciate  that  she  was  a  different  creature  from 
the  white,  calm  maiden,  with  unstirred  soul, 
who  had  welcomed  the  baron  on  the  morning 
when  he  had  ridden  with  call  of  bugle  and  gleam 
of  jewelled  armor  out  of  the  gloom  of  the  pine 
forest  below  the  castle.  Whether  this  change 
was  one  for  which  to  be  glad  Father  Christo- 
pher could  not  determine.  His  love  for  Erna 


136  ALBRECHT. 

and  his  loyalty  to  the  Von  Rittenbergs  rendered 
it  impossible  for  him  to  feel  that  it  was  not  an 
improvement  that  now  Erna  should  be  gay 
where  she  had  hitherto  been  calm,  that  she 
should  be  jocund  where  she  had  before  been 
only  happy,  that  she  should  apparently  have 
discovered  the  delights  of  the  eye,  of  the  body, 
and  of  the  world,  and  exchanged  her  former 
innocence  for  a  more  worldly  wisdom  ;  and  yet 
all  this  confused  him.  He  could  not  think  it 
wrong  that  now  the  countess  adorned  herself 
with  the  splendid  gems  of  which  her  caskets 
were  so  well  rilled ;  especially  as  she  had  be- 
stowed upon  the  Madonna  in  the  castle  chapel 
jewels  that  would  have  bought  the  entire  hold- 
ing as  it  had  been  before  Baron  von  Waldstein's 
coming.  He  did  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to 
reprove  or  indeed  even  to  blame  her  newly 
developed  fondness  for  hawking,  a  sport  for 
which  her  husband  had  a  strong  inclination  and 
in  which  he  had  also  unusual  skill.  He  could 
not  condemn  her  gay  raiment,  her  frequent 
laughter,  her  increased  attention  to  the  com- 
forts and  luxuries  of  the  castle.  There  was 
nothing  in  all  this  which  was  sinful,  there  was 
not  even  anything  which  was  not  eminently 
fitting  to  the  youth  of  the  countess,  her  estate, 
and  her  condition. 

And  yet  the  mind  of  the  priest  was  somehow 


HOW  THE  DAYS   SPED  AT  RITTENBERG.     137 

strangely  troubled.  Perhaps  his  inner  con- 
sciousness apprehended  a  change  in  Erna  that 
was  so  subtile  as  not  to  be  tangible  to  the  out- 
ward sense.  Certain  it  is  that  a  doubt  so  vague 
that  he  could  not  have  defined  it  even  to  him- 
self, but  so  real  that  it  filled  him  with  a  shadowy 
fear  of  coming  evil,  weighed  upon  the  soul  of 
Father  Christopher  whenever  he  thought  of  his 
mistress  and  of  the  effect  which  this  marriage 
had  wrought  upon  her  character. 

When  it  came,  however,  to  attaching  any 
blame  to  Baron  Albrecht,  the  mind  of  Father 
Christopher  drew  back  at  once.  Here  he  had 
no  doubt  in  one  way.  He  could  not  but  feel 
that  if  any  harm  came  to  Erna  through  this 
marriage  it  would  be  from  the  fact  that  her 
husband  had  been  born  in  the  accursed,  soulless 
race  of  kobolds ;  but  his  sentiment  of  love,  of 
respect,-  almost  of  reverence  for  Albrecht  was  de- 
veloping so  rapidly  that  he  could  not  even  then 
attach  any  blame  to  the  baron  personally. 

The  possibilities  of  spiritual  life,  of  high  aspi- 
rations, which  had  been  opened  to  Albrecht  when 
upon  the  kobold  had  dawned  the  glorious  light 
of  a  soul  seemed  at  first  to  dazzle  him.  He 
walked  as  a  man  in  a  dream,  or  as  a  prophet 
who  hears  voices  and  sees  visions.  His  joyous, 
sensuous,  wild  nature  did  not,  it  is  true,  at  once 
lose  its  strength.  He  was  the  inciter  of  the 


138  ALBRECHT. 

countess  to  the  sports  of  which  under  his 
guidance  she  began  to  be  fond,  her  former 
dread  of  giving  pain  to  the  defenceless  animals 
yielding  to  the  delights  of  the  excitement  of 
the  chase ;  he  infused  into  her  a  new  gayety, 
an  animal  zest  in  life,  a  sensuous  eagerness  to 
seize  upon  the  joy  of  the  moment  and  to  forget 
past  and  future ;  he  inoculated  her,  in  a  word, 
with  the  spirit  of  his  being  as  he  had  existed 
hitherto,  of  the  kobold  not  yet  fully  transformed 
into  a  man,  although  the  process  of  this  trans- 
formation had  begun  at  the  moment  when  he 
had  been  gifted  with  a  human  soul. 

As  for  the  Lady  Adelaide,  she  was  thoroughly 
delighted  with  the  change  which  had  come  to 
Rittenberg.  This,  she  declared,  was  like  the 
gay  times  when  Erna's  father  was  still  alive,  and 
the  castle  was  the  rendezvous  of  many  bold 
and  merry  knights  and  dames.  She  began  to 
bring  from  the  recesses  of  her  memory  num- 
berless tales  of  the  old  time,  and  now  she  was 
pleased  to  find  that  her  grand-niece  would  listen 
to  histories  and  scandals  which  hitherto  she  had 
refused  to  hear.  Lady  Adelaide  assured  Elsa, 
in  those  confidential  moments  during  which  that 
damsel  was  engaged  in  assisting  her  at  her 
toilet,  that  the  baron  had  quite  made  the  count- 
ess over,  and  that  the  transformation  was  little 
short  of  a  miracle. 


HOW  THE   DAYS   SPED   AT   RITTENBERG.      139 

"  Heaven  knows  what  a  prude  she  was,"  Lady 
Adelaide  would  say,  long  years  of  habitual 
freedom  of  intercourse  with  her  damsel  having 
brought  her  to  a  degree  of  intimacy  in  her 
speech  with  Elsa  which  was  unusual  with  one 
of  the  latter's  station  ;  "  she  used  to  blush,  God's 
blood!  at  the  mere  mention  of  a  man;  and  as 
for  having  any  witty  talk  with  her,  I  might  as 
well  have  gone  to  the  chapel  for  a  cosey  chat 
with  the  Virgin  on  the  altar,  Heaven  save  the 
mark !  Now  it  is  all  quite  different,  and  I  can 
have  some  real  comfort  in  gossiping  with  her." 

"  Yes,  doubtless  marriage  is  a  wonderful 
thing,"  demurely  responded  Elsa,  who  was 
betrothed  to  the  steward  of  the  castle,  and  was 
only  waiting  to  assure  herself  that  she  could  not 
possibly  do  better  before  she  took  the  irrevo- 
cable step  of  marrying  him.  "  It  has  changed 
the  countess  much ;  and  her  husband,  too, 
meseems." 

"  That  is  to  say,  he  does  not  chuck  thee 
under  the  chin  any  more,  or  kiss  thee  in  the 
corridors.  Well,  beshrew  me,  but  'tis  quite 
as  well.  Little  does  it  increase  the  peace  of 
the  family  to  have  the  lord  of  it  too  fond  of  the 
damsels.  Baron  Albrecht  has  improved  quite 
as  much  as  she,  to  my  thinking.  He  is  not  so 
bold  and  reckless.  I  used  continually  to  dread 
lest  perchance  he  should  do  some  outlandish 


140  ALBRECIIT. 

thing.  He  seemed  like  a  mad  creature  when 
the  mood  was  on  him,  and  his  tricks  frightened 
me  wellnigh  out  of  my  five  wits." 

'•  But  always  was  he  good-humored,"  Elsa 
returned. 

"  Oh,  of  a  truth ;  but  lawless  was  he  as  the 
wild  wind  in  the  pine  forest.  It  made  no  differ- 
ence against  whose  feelings  he  hurtled.  Now 
he  is  so  much  more  human.  Meseems  now 
that  Erna  is  in  sooth  happily  married,  and  with 
Baron  Albrecht's  wealth  there  seems  to  be 
nothing  lacking." 

It  was  certainly  true  that  to  all  outward  ap- 
pearance the  marriage  of  Erna  and  Albrecht 
was  a  fortunate  one.  Every  day  they  seemed 
to  be  brought  more  and  more  closely  together. 
The  countess  lost  that  reserve  and  unworldiness 
which  her  aunt  had  stigmatized  as  austerity; 
the  baron  gained  those  spiritual  qualities  the 
lack  of  which  had  been  his  only  deficiency. 
Each  found  in  the  other  new  experiences, 
fresh  fields,  an  unexplored  region  of  pleasure. 
Life  at  Rittenberg  was  wellnigh  ideal.  The 
accustomed  occupations  of  the  wife  were  full 
of  novelty  and  of  attractiveness  to  the  husband. 
The  pair  read  together  in  Erna's  few  but  well- 
loved  books,  and  when  the  wildness  of  the 
storm-sprites  kept  them  within  doors  they  found 
in  these  and  the  talk  to  which  what  they  read 


HOW  THE  DAYS   SPED  AT  RITTENBERG.      141 

gave  rise  the  means  of  passing  many  a  happy 
hour.  Here  Erna  took  the  lead,  and  Albrecht 
was  like  her  pupil.  In  the  more  active,  out-of- 
door  sports  and  in-door  revelry  it  was  to  Al- 
brecht that  the  initiative  fell.  Each  had  much 
to  teach  and  much  to  learn,  and  in  teaching  and 
learning  alike  were  both  happy. 

All  this  Father  Christopher  watched  with 
eagerness  born  of  his  love  for  the  young  couple 
and  his  desire  for  their  spiritual  welfare.  Could 
he  have  been  sure  that  this  state  of  things  would 
continue,  he  would  have  been  fully  contented 
and  happy  in  regard  to  them,  and  he  was 
wholly  unable  to  explain  to  himself  what  pos- 
sible grounds  there  could  be  for  doubting  that 
Albrecht  and  Erna  would  still  live  together  in 
mutual  helpfulness  and  pleasure.  Yet  in  his 
mind  was  the  vague  form  of  some  doubt  which 
he  could  not  name  but  which  he  could  not 
banish.  It  might  be  that  he  was  accustomed 
to  being  confronted  by  the  fact  that  all  spiritual 
good  is  the  price  of  hard  struggle,  and  he  un- 
consciously waited  to  see  in  what  form  would 
come  the  contest  in  which  Albrecht  must 
sooner  or  later  fight  with  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness for  the  soul  which  he  seemed  to  have  won 
and  to  enjoy  without  a  battle.  He  felt,  too, 
that  the  powers  of  the  forest,  the  evil  spirits 
of  the  waste  and  the  night,  would  not  yield  up 


142  ALBRECHT. 

Albrecht  without  a  struggle,  and  his  was  the 
attitude  of  one  who  waits  for  coming  conflict. 

One  summer  morning  the  priest  came  into 
the  great  hall  of  the  castle  to  find  Albrecht  and 
Erna  standing  together  at  the  window  looking 
out  at  the  weather.  It  had  been  raining  at 
intervals  ever  since  daybreak,  and  great  masses 
of  broken  cloud  were  trailing  their  ragged  edges 
over  the  far-spreading  forests  of  pine  that  cov- 
ered the  mountain  slopes.  Now  and  then  the 
sky  would  lighten  as  if  the  storm  were  ended, 
but  again  it  would  lower,  and  the  rain  come 
dashing  down,  swept  by  the  wind  against  the 
castle  windows. 

"I  am  sure  that  the  rain  is  over,"  Erna  said 
persuasively,  as  Father  Christopher  came  within 
hearing.  "  We  can  get  to  horse  now,  and  by  the 
time  we  are  well  under  way  the  sun  will  be  shin- 
ing. Besides,  what  does  it  matter  if  it  does  not 
clear  off  ?  We  shall  not  mind  that  if  we  can 
but  get  into  the  open." 

"  In  the  first  place,"  returned  Albrecht,  smil- 
ing upon  her  and  then  turning  to  look  out  again 
over  hill  and  valley  and  up  at  the  stormy  sky, 
"  Meseemeth  it  is  soon  to  rain  very  heavily;  and 
in  the  second  place,  I  am  not  sorry  that  we 
should  be  kept  at  home  to-day  that  we  may  go 
on  with  those  words  in  the  scroll  of  Saint  Cuth- 
bert  we  were  called  away  from  yesterday." 


HOW  THE  DAYS   SPED  AT   RITTENBERG.      143 

"But  the  reading  can  always  be  done,"  was 
Erna's  answer,  "  and  who  knows  when  we  can 
ride?  Besides,"  she  added,  a  dazzling  smile 
parting  her  beautiful  lips,  "  we  can  read  Saint 
Cuthbert  when  for  very  age  we  cannot  ride." 

The  priest  did  not  stay  to  hear  how  the 
matter  was  settled,  but  went  on  his  way  down 
the  long  hall ;  yet  as  he  went  he  thought  won- 
deringly  of  the  strange  fact  that  it  should  be 
Erna  who  urged  for  pleasure,  and  Albrecht 
who  desired  that  the  time  be  given  to  pious 
employment. 


144  ALBRECHT. 


XIV 
HOW  THE    PRIEST   BECAME   TROUBLED. 

THE  days  went  by,  until  already  the  autumn 
crocuses  began  to  star  with  their  bright 
colors  the  glades  among  the  hills.  The  time 
of  year  had  come  when  the  blood  of  the  hunts- 
man begins  to  tingle  in  his  veins  because  the 
best  sport  of  the  whole  twelvemonth  is  at  hand. 
The  sky  mellowed  like  the  winter  pears  which 
were  showing  the  first  shade  of  the  tawny  and 
russet  hue  that  should  cover  their  cheeks  when 
the  time  came  for  their  gathering. 

N(ow  of  nights  the  Wild  Huntsman  was  often 
heard  riding  with  mad  crew  of  wood-sprites 
through  the  forest;  and  as  the  days  shortened 
and  the  dusk  of  twilight  gathered  earlier  than 
before,  it  happened  that  not  a  few  of  the  churls 
and  serfs  of  the  castle  caught  glimpses  of  vague 
forms  stealing  through  the  gathering  darkness, 
now  on  earth  and  anon  in  the  air,  as  if  the 
wood-folk  were  watching  what  was  in  progress 
at  Rittenberg  with  the  most  careful  eagerness. 
Father  Christopher,  when  these  tales  came  to 


HOW  THE   PRIEST  BECAME  TROUBLED.       145 

his  hearing,  sighed  and  shook  his  head.  He 
could  easily  comprehend  that  all  the  wild  soul- 
less folk  of  the  wood,  whether  in  league  with 
the  powers  of  darkness  or  not,  might  well  be 
interested  in  the  fate  of  one  of  their  band  who 
from  a  wood-creature  had  become  human,  and, 
whether  they  were  plotting  to  do  him  harm  or 
no,  would  long  to  watch  how  he  bore  his  new 
powers  and  his  gift  of  immortality.  But  withal 
was  Father  Christopher  troubled  in  his  mind 
lest  these  strange  sprites  might  be  other  than 
creatures  who  looked  upon  Albrecht  with  won- 
der and  longing.  He  knew  how  prone  are  the 
wood-folk  to  do  mischief ;  and  as  the  wild  herd 
will  set  upon  a  tame  animal  though  he  be  of 
their  kind,  so  it  might  well  be  that  the  unbap- 
tized  crew  were  eager  to  do  harm  to  one  who 
had  deserted  their  ranks. 

More  than  the  doings  of  the  creatures  of  the 
forest,  however,  did  the  ways  at  Rittenberg 
concern  the  priest.  There  was  day  by  day  a 
more  and  more  jocund  stir  in  the  castle.  The 
countess  seemed  to  drink  in  animation  from  the 
air,  which  was  now  chill  in  the  morning,  and 
ever  did  she  become  more  and  more  eager  in 
the  chase  and  in  all  merry-making.  The 
hounds  and  the  hawks  were  well  looked  to  in 
these  days;  and  old  Rupert,  the  chief  hunts- 
man, whose  office  had  become  a  mere  idle  name 


146  ALBRECHT. 

in  the  days  before  the  coming  of  the  Baron 
Albrecht,  found  himself  so  busy  that  he  lay 
down  at  night  on  his  hard  pallet  with  all  his 
aged  bones  an  ache.  He  was  full  of  pride  in 
the  revival  of  his  art,  and  he  began  to  boast 
that  the  sport  was  as  well  followed  now  as  in 
the  days  of  his  former  master,  the  late  count; 
but  he  sighed  to  himself  now  and  then  when 
he  was  alone,  and  shook  his  head,  wondering 
whether  he  should  be  much  longer  able  to  keep 
up  to  the  pace  which  was  now  the  custom  of 
the  castle.  He  began  to  say  to  himself  more 
and  more  frequently  that  he  was,  after  all,  an  old 
man,  and  that  it  was  getting  to  be  time  for  him 
to  make  way  for  the  young  fellows  he  had 
trained.  It  made  him  melancholy  enough  to 
consider  this  possibility,  but  it  was  a  great 
comfort  to  him  that  the  revival  of  venery  at 
Rittenberg  gave  him  a  chance  to  show  those 
who  were  to  take  his  place  how  things  should 
be  done,  and  to  prove  his  own  cunning  in  the 
chase  before  he  resigned  forever  the  boar-spear 
which  was  his  badge  of  office. 

For  there  were  gay  doings  at  Rittenberg  in 
these  autumn  days.  The  doves  that  of  old  had 
sailed  so  smoothly  and  sleepily  about  the  castle 
towers,  had  now  no  rest,  so  greatly  were  they 
excited  by  the  sound  of  hunting-horn  by  day 
and  of  lute  by  night,  the  stir  of  huntsmen  in 


HOW  THE   PRIEST  BECAME  TROUBLED.       147 

the  courtyard,  and  the  laughter  of  Erna  and  her 
maidens  ringing  out  through  the  windows  of 
the  great  hall. 

"  All  the  castle,"  quoth  the  Lady  Adelaide  to 
Father  Christopher,  "  seems  to  have  caught  the 
spirit  of  the  baron.  Everybody  is  full  of  life 
now,  and  Heaven  knows  we  were  dull  enough 
before  he  came.  Count  Stephen  told  me  that 
he  felt  as  if  he  were  in  the  tower  of  the  Sleeping 
Beauty  when  he  was  here." 

"  The  sleeper  has  awakened,"  the  priest  re- 
sponded, with  a  smile  that  was  not  without 
some  secret  shadow.  "  In  truth,  the  countess 
and  her  husband  have  become  so  truly  one  that 
it  is  not  possible  to  say  that  either  is  gayer  than 
the  other.  They  think  alike,  and  they  feel  in 
all  things  the  same." 

He  spoke  reflectively,  and  even  as  he  spoke 
there  came  into  his  mind  a  doubt  whether  his 
words  were  exactly  true.  He  had  watched  with 
the  keenest  interest  and  anxiety  the  growth  of 
the  spiritual  in  Albrecht,  and  the  gradual  hu- 
manizing that  had  been  wrought  in  the  kobold 
by  his  marriage.  He  felt  profoundly  his  own 
responsibility  in  regard  to  both  the  baron  and 
Erna,  and  the  beads  of  his  rosary  were  grow- 
ing more  and  more  smooth  under  his  ringers  in 
the  days  and  nights  that  had  sped  since  the 
wedding. 


148  ALBRECHT. 

He  had  watched  Erna  no  less  carefully  than 
Albrecht,  and  he  was  beginning  to  wonder  with 
some  sense  of  fear  how  far  the  influence  of  her 
husband  was  destined  to  lead  her  from  the 
condition  of  innocent  and  spiritual  calm  in 
which  the  Baron  von  VValdstein  had  found  her 
upon  that  spring  day  when  she  had  first  met 
him  in  the  great  hall.  There  was  nothing  in 
the  life  of  Erna  which  the  priest  could  look 
upon  with  blame,  and  yet  he  was  vaguely 
uneasy  when  he  thought  of  her.  He  said  to 
himself  that  he  was  really  only  unduly  affected 
by  the  changes  which  were  natural  under  the 
circumstances,  and  that  his  charge  had  only 
developed ;  and  yet  the  more  he  pondered  the 
less  was  he  satisfied.  He  found  Albrecht  every 
day  more  interested  in  things  which  concerned 
the  soul  which  he  had  won.  Continually  he 
became  a  deeper  student  of  things  spiritual,  and 
less  wholly  given  up  to  the  pursuit  of  pleasure. 
Erna,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  each  day 
more  intoxicated  with  the  joy  of  living,  and 
more  absorbed  in  the  delights  of  the  world 
which  belongs  to  the  senses. 

"  It  is  natural  that  husband  and  wife  should 
become  alike,"  Lady  Adelaide  answered  the 
last  remark  of  Father  Christopher's  with  an  air 
of  the  greatest  wisdom ;  "  that  is,  if  they  are  at 
all  in  accord.  He  hath  waked  her,  and  she  hath 


HOW  THE  PRIEST  BECAME  TROUBLED.       149 

toned  him  down,  and  it  is  an  improvement  on 
both  sides.  I  must  say  that  taking  into  account 
the  magnificence  of  the  Morgengabet  I  do  not 
see'  that  the  countess  could  possibly  have  done 
better.  The  baron  was  always  delightful,  but 
thou  must  remember  that  he  was  as  wild  a's  a 
hawk  when  he  came  to  Rittenberg." 

"  He  has  certainly  changed  much,  and  that 
for  the  better,"  answered  her  companion. 

The  priest  was  thinking  of  how  he  had 
stopped  a  moment  to  chat  with  Rupert,  the 
huntsman,  as  he  crossed  the  courtyard  that 
morning,  and  how  Rupert  had  praised  the  kind- 
ness of  the  baron  to  the  dogs,  telling  how  in  the 
boar-hunt  yesterday  Baron  Albrecht  had  been 
as  tender  with  Gelert,  the  hound  that  was  so 
badly  hurt,  as  could  have  been  Rupert's  own 
wife,  who  was  used  to  tending  and  nursing  hurt 
dogs.  Father  Christopher  remembered  how 
in  the  early  days  of  his  coming  to  the  castle 
Albrecht  had  laughed  at  the  bare  idea  of  one's 
caring  for  the  suffering  of  an  animal,  and  that 
even  when  his  man-at-arms  had  been  ill  he  had 
shown  not  the  slightest  comprehension  of  any 
reason  why  one  should  be  affected  by  the  pain 
of  another. 

The  priest  stood  by  the  window  in  the  hall 
where  he  had  been  talking  with  Lady  Adelaide 
for  a  long  time  after  she  had  gone,  thinking  of 


ISO  ALBRECHT. 

the  problems  which  her  words  suggested.  It 
was  too  evident  that  Erna  and  Albrecht  had 
greatly  influenced  each  other  for  even  the  most 
careless  observer  to  overlook  it,  and  no  one 
could  tell  where  this  change  of  character  would 
end.  Out  in  the  courtyard  he  could  see  the 
workmen  who  were  finishing  the  preparations 
for  a  show  of  the  mummers  which  was  to  take 
place  that  morning.  Directly  after  the  wedding 
day  Herr  von  Zimmern  had  announced  his  in- 
tention of  going  to  visit  his  family,  and  since 
then  they  had  had  no  word  from  him  directly. 
He  had  however  given  them  proof  that  he  did 
not  forget  his  former  lord,  since  from  time  to 
time  troupes  of  dancers,  jugglers,  or  of  mum- 
mers arrived  at  Rittenberg,  sent  by  the  cripple 
or  directed  by  some  hint  which  had  evidently 
come  from  him.  Father  Christopher  was 
secretly  troubled  by  these  evidences  of  the 
continued  remembrance  of  Herr  Frederich. 
The  priest  had  distrusted  him  from  the  first, 
and  since  he  had  been  acquainted  with  Herr 
von  Zimmern's  history  he  had  dreaded  him, 
feeling  sure  that  the  time  would  come  when  he 
would  seek  revenge  for  his  long  captivity  and 
the  cruel  maiming  inflicted  upon  him  by  the 
kobold  king. 

Erna  welcomed    these    wandering   bands   of 
players  with   more  and  more  eagerness,  while 


HOW  THE   PRIEST  BECAME  TROUBLED.       15 1 

the  priest  was  confident  that  in  Albrecht  he 
perceived  signs  of  a  growing  weariness  of  their 
dances,  their  tricks,  and  their  clumsy  mumming. 
The  present  troupe  was  more  numerous  than 
any  of  its  predecessors,  and  the  preparations 
were  of  far  more  than  usual  elaborateness.  As 
the  priest  looked  down  into  the  courtyard  the 
last  touches  were  being  put  to  the  stage ;  and 
presently  the  players,  already  in  their  dresses, 
began  to  appear  from  the  quarters  which  had 
been  assigned  to  them  upon  the  side  of  the 
court  opposite  to  that  from  which  the  windows 
of  the  great  hall  looked.  The  household  was 
gathering,  and  the  Lady  Adelaide,  with  Elsa 
behind  her  chair,  had  taken  her  seat,  although 
those  of  the  lord  and  lady  of  the  castle  were 
still  vacant. 

Divided  in  his  mind  whether  to  go  down  and 
join  the  company  of  spectators  or  not,  the  priest 
was  standing  irresolutely  at  the  casement  when 
Albrecht  and  Erna'  came  together  into  the  hall. 

"  Come,  Father,"  the  countess  said  gayly, 
"  they  say  these  are  the  best  mummers  that 
have  ever  been  seen  in  all  the  Schwarzwald. 
They  are  to  give  a  wonderful  play  of  the  life 
of  Helen  of  Troy,  and  after  that  there  are  to 
be  dances." 

She  was  as  joyous  as  a  child,  her  cheeks 
flushed  with  eagerness  and  her  lips  parted  with 


152  ALBRECHT. 

laughter.  She  was  a  being  as  far  removed  as 
could  well  be  imagined  from  the  serene,  pen- 
sive maiden  who  had  watched  the  Baron  von 
Waldstein  ride  out  of  the  pine  forest  below 
the  castle  slope  so  few  short  weeks  ago.  Her 
mouth  had  shaped  itself  to  a  new  seductive- 
ness, her  eyes  had  kindled  with  a  new  and  less 
heavenly  lustre,  and  her  bosom  had  swelled 
into  a  new  fulness.  She  was  more  beautiful, 
and  yet  the  priest  could  not  repress  a  sigh  as 
he  looked  at  her,  so  far  from  her  old  state  of 
innocence  and  of  spirituality  did  she  seem  in 
her  rich  beauty. 

Before  the  priest  had  time  to  answer  her  in- 
vitation to  the  mummers'  show,  the  countess's 
woman,  Fastrade,  appeared  and  came  down  the 
hall  toward  the  group. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  gracious  lady,"  she  said,  with 
a  little  hesitation,  "  but  the  charcoal-burner  is 
below." 

"Well?"  demanded  Erna',  a  shadow  flitting 
across  her  bright  face. 

"  He  says,"  Fastrade  continued  with  evident 
unwillingness,  "  that  his  little  daughter  is  dy- 
ing, and  that  she  prays  the  gracious  countess 
to  come  with  the  priest  to  see  her  before  she 
dies." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  in  the  hall. 
Both  Albrecht  and  the  priest  looked  at  Erna  in 


HOW  THE   PRIEST  BECAME  TROUBLED.       153 

evident  solicitude  in  regard  to  her  answer.  She 
herself  seemed  to  feel  their  looks  as  a  sort  of 
challenge,  and  she  threw  back  her  head  with 
an  almost  defiant  gesture  as  she  replied : 

"  Father  Christopher  will  go,  of  course,  but 
I  could  do  no  good,  and  just  now  I  am 
engaged." 

Her  husband  laid  his  hand  lightly  upon  her 
arm,  and  bent  toward  her  beseechingly. 

"  But  surely,"  he  said,  "  since  the  little  maid 
is  dying,  thou  wilt  go.  The  mummers  can  wait. 
There  is  time  for  that  afterward,  and  for  this  it 
would  be  too  late." 

The  priest  did  not  speak,  but  he  waited  with 
the  deepest  anxiety  for  her  answer,  since  it 
seemed  to  him  that  it  would  be  so  significant  of 
whatever  change  might  really  have  taken  place 
in  her  who  once  would  have  let  nothing  stand 
between  her  and  a  call  of  mercy.  He  saw  her 
lips  harden,  and  a  cold  light  come  into  her  eyes. 

"  What  is  the  charcoal-burner's  daughter," 
she  asked  slowly,  "  that  I  should  give  up  my 
pleasure  for  her  whim,  even  if  she  be  dying?" 

The  waiting-woman  stared  at  the  countess  in 
amazement,  the  priest  regarded  her  with  a  look 
of  deep  sorrow,  but  in  the  eyes  of  Albrecht 
Father  Christopher  saw  an  expression  in  which 
were  both  remorse  and  terror. 


154  ALBRECHT. 


XV 
HOW  COUNT  STEPHEN   RETURNED. 

THE  bright-hued  harvest-crocus  had  faded 
in  the  meadows,  and  over  the  blackly 
green  pine  forests  had  come  a  colder  hue ;  the 
ferns  in  the  beech  wood  were  beginning  to  look 
wan  and  yellow,  as  if  the  thought  that  autumn 
was  at  hand  had  already  dismayed  them.  The 
heather  was  tinged  with  russet,  and  all  the  skies 
upon  which  Erna  looked,  as  one  morning  she 
gazed  discontentedly  from  the  casement  of  her 
chamber,  were  filmed  with  soft  hazes  whose 
faint  purple  was  as  intangible  as  the  first  shadow 
of  coming  twilight,  which  one  feels  rather  than 
sees. 

Erna  sighed  as  she  leaned  half  over  the  stone 
ledge  upon  which  the  sun  lay  warmly.  The 
doves  were  preening  themselves  almost  within 
reach  of  her  touch,  and  she  waved  her  hand  im- 
patiently to  frighten  them  away,  since  in  her 
untoward  mood  their  soft  reiterated  coo  vexed 
her  ears.  She  had  learned  in  these  days,  during 
which  she  had  been  seeking  pleasure  as  she  had 


HOW    COUNT  STEPHEN   RETURNED.        I$5 

never  sought  it  before,  the  meaning  of  ennui. 
She  was  restless  with  the  awakened  stir  of  a 
hundred  desires  which  demanded  continual  grat- 
ification. She  longed  for  excitement,  for  the 
movement  of  crowds,  for  the  delights  of  the  eye 
and  the  lusts  of  the  flesh  which  once  would  not 
have  awakened  in  her  heart  a  throb  of  .inter- 
est. She  wanted  continually  fresh  diversions, 
new  sports,  strange  revels,  rich  viands,  all  the 
alluring  joys  of  the  senses  to  which  she  had  of 
old  in  her  innocence  and  ignorance  been  so 
indifferent. 

This  morning  she  had  been  urging  her  hus- 
band to  take  her  to  court.  Charlemagne  was 
at  Mayence,  and  there  were  echoes  of  the  gay 
doings  there  forward  which  reached  even  as  far 
as  Rittenberg.  The  countess  longed  to  see  the 
brave  shows,  the  rich  pageants,  the  gorgeous 
raiment ;  to  sit  at  the  banquets,  and  to  dazzle 
the  eyes  of  the  gallants  with  her  beauty  and  her 
jewels,  finer  than  the  queen's  own.  She  had 
urged  upon  Albrecht  the  propriety  of  paying 
his  respects  in  person  to  his  sovereign ;  but  her 
entreaties,  her  arguments,  and  her  protestations 
had  been  alike  unavailing.  Albrecht  was  kind 
in  the  manner  of  his  refusal,  but  he  was  still 
persistent  in  it,  and  in  the  end  Erna  had  found 
herself  utterly  powerless  to  change  his  deter- 
mination not  to  leave  Rittenberg. 


156  ALBRECHT. 

"They  tell  strange  tales  of  the  court,"  he 
said  in  reply  to  her  pleading.  "  There  is  more 
license  there  than  it  becomes  a  modest  woman 
to  see,  and  over-much  worldliness  as  well. 
Surely  it  were  not  well  to  put  one's  self  in  a 
place  like  this  needlessly,  beloved." 

Erna  had  answered  nothing,  but  she  had  left 
him  with  a  feeling  almost  like  anger  in  her 
heart.  She  knew  why  he  wished  to  stay  at 
Rittenberg.  It  was  that  he  might  go  on  with 
his  tiresome  studies  with  Father  Christopher,  to 
which  Albrecht  gave  more  and  more  time  every 
day.  As  for  the  wickedness  of  the  court,  she 
was  a  married  woman,  and  with  a  husband  to 
protect  her,  and  one  moreover  of  a  bearing  so 
knightly  as  that  of  Von  Waldstein,  it  was  not 
to  be  supposed  that  she  could  come  to  any 
harm.  She  sighed  with  fresh  impatience  as  she 
reflected  how  deeply  immersed  in  the  study  of 
spiritual  things  her  husband  had  become  since 
their  marriage.  She  was  not,  she  assured  her- 
self, less  fond  of  him  than  of  old,  .but  it  was 
to  the  last  degree  provoking  that  just  as  she 
had  learned  to  appreciate  the  delight  of  life, 
Albrecht  should  devote  so  much  thought  to 
things  which  she  had  laid  aside  as  dull. 

As  she  mused  in  this  fashion,  looking  out  of 
the  window  as  she  had  looked  when  Albrecht 
rode  gallantly  out  of  the  pine  forest  at  the  foot 


HOW  COUNT  STEPHEN   RETURNED.        157 

of  the  castle  hill  on  that  day  when  Erna  first 
saw  him,  once  more  she  heard  the  note  of  a 
bugle-horn  in  the  valley,  and  once  more  a 
knight  rode  out  of  the  covert  into  sight,  fol- 
lowed by  his  men-at-arms.  With  eager  curiosity 
Erna  peered  out  at  the  new-comer,  and  almost 
instantly  her  eye  caught  sight  of  the  pennon 
of  the  Von  Rittenbergs  of  Schaffhausen,  and 
understood  that  the  visitor  was  her  cousin, 
Count  Stephen,  who  was  probably  on  his  re- 
turn from  Strasburg,  and  who  had  accepted  her 
invitation  to  repeat  his  visit  to  Rittenberg. 

For  an  instant  her  cheek  flushed  with  vexa- 
tion, her  old  dislike  of  the  count  reawakening, 
but  instantly  her  changed  taste  asserted  it- 
self, and  she  smiled.  She  watched  the  train 
as  it  rode  up  to  the  gate,  and  then  she  turned 
back  into  her  chamber  with  joyous  haste.  It 
came  into  her  mind  that  she  could  make  an  im- 
pression upon  her  guest,  and  she  began  straight- 
way to  consider  how  she  should  array  herself 
to  go  to  meet  him.  She  chose  from  her  jewel- 
case  a  string  of  rubies,  and  quickly  bound  it 
upon  her  head  like  a  fillet;  and  as  she  did  so 
her  woman,  Fastrade,  came  to'  announce  to  her 
the  arrival  of  Count  von  Rittenberg. 

The  Lady  Adelaide  reached  the  great  hall 
before  her,  and  Count  Stephen  was  speaking 
with  the  old  dame  with  his  back  to  the  stairway 


T5~8  ALBRECHT. 

by  which  Erna  descended.  The  countess  was 
already  close  to  him  before  he  perceived  her. 
Then  he  wheeled  suddenly,  almost  turning  his 
back  upon  Lady  Adelaide  in  his  astonishment 
at  the  beauty  of  the  woman  before  him.  Erna 
did  not  lose  one  shade  of  the  look  of  amaze- 
ment and  admiration  which  came  into  his  face 
as  he  looked  at  her. 

"  God's  blood  !  "  he  cried.  "  What  has  come 
to  thee,  Cousin  ?  Indeed,  this  marriage  of  which 
they  told  me  at  Mayence  has  made  a  new 
creature  of  thee.  I  greet  thy  ladyship,  and 
that  I  did  not  send  congratulations  on  thy 
marriage  is  no  fault  of  mine,  since  it  was  all 
over  before  I  knew  of  it." 

"  It  is  no  matter,"  replied  Erna,  giving  him 
her  hand  and  smiling  upon  him  with  a  pleased 
sense  of  companionship  which  she  had  never 
experienced  in  his  presence  before ;  "  since  thou 
hast  come  in  person  to  bring  them,  we  consent 
to  overlook  the  fact  that  thou  art  somewhat 
tardy.  But  hast  thou  been  at  Mayence  as  well 
as  to  Strasburg?  I  did  not  know  that  was  .in 
thy  mind." 

"  It  was  not  when  I  left  here,"  he  answered, 
regarding  her  with  so  undisguised  a  look  of 
admiration  that  she  blushed  under  it  and  turned 
aside  her  eyes ;  "  but  being  in  the  way  of 
travelling  I  pushed  on  to  Mayence,  and  there 


HOW   COUNT   STEPHEN   RETURNED.        159 

I  saw  the  court,  and  there  I  heard  of  thy 
marriage." 

"  Fain  would  we  hear  of  the  court,"  Lady 
Adelaide  said,  leading  the  way  to  a  seat  in  the 
broad  recess  of  a  window.  "  Sit  thee  down 
here,  and  tell  us  what  thou  canst  of  the  doings 
and  the  braveries  there,  while  the  page  brings 
thee  a  cup  of  wine.  I  hope  too,  on  my  soul, 
that  thou  hast  more  wit  in  speech  of  woman's 
apparel  than  have  most  of  the  knights  I  have 
known,  for  we  would  know  of  the  raiment  of  the 
queen  and  her  damsels,  and  in  good  sooth  it  is 
seldom  that  a  knight  is  cunning  enough  to  tell 
anything  of  that  sort  rightly,  albeit  so  simple 
is  it  that  the  most  foolish  kitchen  wench  that 
had  but  seen  the  royal  train  ride  past  could 
describe  it  all." 

"  And  therein  is  it  to  be  seen  that  a  knight's 
head  is  not  like  that  of  a  foolish  kitchen  wench," 
laughed  Count  Stephen,  seating  himself  com- 
fortably among  the  cushions  beside  the  two 
ladies. 

"But  tell  me,"  Erna  said,  "from  whom  didst 
thou  hear  of  the  marriage?  It  is  not  likely 
that  it  is  a  topic  which  is  greatly  discussed  at 
court." 

"  The  court  concerns  itself  with  many  a 
matter  that  is  of  less  moment,"  replied  he, 
gallantly;  "but  it  was  from  a  certain  Herr  von 


160  ALBRECHT. 

Zimmern  that  I  had  the  tidings.  He  was  at 
an  inn  where  I  lodged,  and  when  he  heard  my 
name  he  made  bold  to  speak  to  me.  He  is 
an  ill-favored  knave  enough,  but  a  shrewd  and 
a  witty." 

"'  I  like  him  not,"  Erna  answered. 

A  brief  silence  followed  this  remark.  Erna 
was  confused  by  the  fact  that  the  count,  whom 
she  had  found  so  little  to  her  taste  before,  should 
now  seem  to  her  so  agreeable.  It  was  impossi- 
ble for  her  not  to  see  from  his  admiring  looks 
that  he  was  pursuing  a  somewhat  similar  train 
of  thought  in  regard  to  her,  and  at  the  reflection 
she  blushed  faintly  once  more,  with  a  thrill  of 
gratified  vanity. 

"  But  where,"  Count  Stephen  broke  the  si- 
lence to  ask, "  is  the  Baron  von  Waldstein?  I 
am  anxious  to  meet  my  new  relative,  and,"  he 
added,  with  a  look  into  the  face  of.  Erna,  "  my 
successful  rival." 

"  My  husband,"  she  replied,  vainly  trying  to 
appear  as  if  she  had  not  heard  the  latter  part  of 
his  remark,  "  is  with  Father  Christopher.  They 
study  together  sometimes." 

"  God's  blood !  "  cried  Von  Rittenberg,  with 
a  burst  of  laughter,  "hast  thou  then  married 
a  clerk,  Cousin?  Fain  would  I  see  this  new 
master  of  Rittenberg  that  studies  with  a  priest. 
If  the  Huns  come,  thou  mayst  have  to  call 


HOW   COUNT   STEPHEN  RETURNED.        l6l 

upon  the  younger  branch  of  the  family  to  de- 
fend thee,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  Lady  Ade- 
laide. "  At  least  we  can  bear  swords  if  we  be 
only  the  '  Schaffleute.'  We  are  not  to  be  looked 
for  in  the  cells  of  priests." 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin  !  "  cried  Lady  Ade- 
laide, in  angry  return.  "  It  is  not  to  outsiders 
that  we  have  been  forced  to  look  for  defence  in 
the  past,  and  it  were  well  that  thou  seest  the 
new  lord  before  thou  speakest  scorn  of  him 
so  lightly.  Belike  it  were  not  so  well  were  he 
to  hear  thee  !  " 

"  My  husband  is  here  to  speak  for  himself," 
Erna  interposed,  rising  with  great  dignity  as 
Albrecht,  summoned  by  a  page,  came  into  the 
hall. 

The  count  looked  at  the  superb  figure  which 
advanced  toward  him,  and  for  an  instant  he 
stood  struck  dumb  with  astonishment. 

"  God's  blood  !  "  he  cried  out  so  loudly  that 
Albrecht  heard  him  half-way  across  the  wide 
hall.  "  That  is  not  a  man ;  it  is  a  god  !  " 

"  It  is  the  lord  of  our  poor  castle !  "  returned 
Lady  Adelaide,  sweeping  him  a  sarcastic  cour- 
tesy. "  Accept  our  thanks  that  thou  hast 
promised  to  defend  it  and  him  from  the  Huns 
when  they  come." 

ii 


162  ALBRECHT. 


XVI 
HOW  THE   COUNT  TALKED   AND    SANG. 

THE  uncanny  wood-folk  who  hovered  about 
Rittenberg  in  these  days  might  well  have 
had  their  fill  of  minstrelsy  and  mirth.  If  life 
had  been  jocund  before  the  return  of  Count 
Stephen,  it  may  well  be  understood  that  it  was 
gayer  yet  now  that  he  had  come.  Von  Ritten- 
berg had  vowed  his  life  to  pleasure ;  and  life  to 
him  was  much  what  it  was  to  the  soulless  crea- 
tures of  the  forest,  in  that  it  meant  to  him  noth- 
ing higher  than  the  delights  of  the  senses.  He 
prolonged  his  stay  at  the  castle  upon  the  slight- 
est urging,  suggesting  one  amusement  after  an- 
other, and  joining  with  hearty  zest  in  whatever 
sports  were  forward. 

"  It  is  well  that  my  steed  brought  me  hither," 
the  count  said  to  his  cousin  one  day.  "  Indeed 
the  beast  was  wiser  than  I,  for  I  was  minded 
not  to  come  this  way  at  all,  so  little  did  I  dream 
that  thou  wouldst  have  been  so  changed." 

"  And  is  it  only  thy  steed,  then,  that  we  have 
to  thank  for  thy  visit?  "  she  asked  with  a  smile. 


HOW  THE   COUNT  TALKED   AND   SANG.       163 

"  Only  the  steed,"  he  returned ;  "  for  when  I 
was  come  to  the  place  where  the  ways  part,  I  was 
minded  to  turn  southward,  and  to  ride  on  home- 
ward without  let  or  stay ;  and  then  it  was  that 
my  horse  would  not,  and  resolutely  set  his  head 
toward  your  castle.  My  squire  will  have  it  that 
an  old  man  with  a  white  beard  and  eyes  like 
fire  did  catch  at  the  bridle-rein,  but  I  saw 
naught,  and  do  not  regard  his  foolish  fancy." 

Erna  laughed  and  made  some  jest  at  the 
knight's  unwillingness  to  come  to  Rittenberg; 
but  Albrecht,  who  had  been  by,  turned  pale, 
and  when  he  was  next  alone  with  the  priest,  he 
said  to  him : 

"  Dost  thou  think,  Father,  that  the  folk  of 
the  forest  can  work  harm  to  one  who  has  won 
an  immortal  soul?" 

"  That  thou  shouldst  know  better  than  I, 
having  lived  among  them,"  the  other  answered ; 
"  only  of  this  be  sure :  however  much  they 
might  harm  the  body,  it  is  not  given  them 
to  reach  the  immortal  part.  What  dost  thou 
fear?  " 

"I  fear  naught,"  Albrecht  answered;  "but 
he  who  is  ruler  of  the  kobolds  in  the  forest 
round  about  Rittenberg,  as  was  my  father  in 
the  Neiderwasser  valley,  is  sore  incensed  by 
my  marriage.  He  hath  had  certain  speech 
with  Herr  Frederich  concerning  it,  and  it  is  he 


1 64  ALBRECHT. 

who  turned  the  Count  von  Rittenberg  in  this 
direction  when  he  was  minded  to  ride  past.  I 
like  it  not." 

Neither  did  it  make  the  priest  more  easy 
in  his  mind  to  learn  that  the  king  of  the  ko- 
bolds  was  become  concerned  in  the  affairs  of 
his  mistress ;  but  there  seemed  naught  that  he 
might  do  concerning  the  matter  save  to  watch 
for  what  should  come  and  to  pray  fervently  to 
the  saints  for  their  gracious  protection.  He 
could  not  divine  what  it  could  boot  to  the 
kobold  that  Count  Stephen  should  come  again 
to  Rittenberg,  but  none  the  less  he  wished  the 
guest  gone. 

There  was  little  token,  however,  that  the 
guest  was  minded  to  take  his  departure.  He 
lingered  from  day  to  day,  and  always  he  be- 
came more  and  more  the  leader  in  the  life  of 
the  castle  and  in  all  its  gayety.  It  was  a  con- 
stant source  of  amazement  to  Count  Stephen 
that  Erna  should  have  so  changed,  or,  as  he 
phrased  it  to  himself,  should  so  have  improved 
during  his  absence.  She  was  no  longer  a  cold 
passionless  maiden,  moving  in  a  world  of  ideals 
and  pious  dreams  remote  from  his  ken ;  she 
was  a  beautiful,  passionate  woman,  who  stirred 
his  pulses,  and  who  responded  with  eager 
readiness  to  any  suggestion  of  pleasure  or  sport 
which  he  made.  He  began  to  feel  that  he  had 


HOW  THE  COUNT  TALKED  AND   SANG.       165 

made  a  grievous  error  in  refusing  the  alliance 
which  had  been  tacitly  offered  him,  and  to 
nourish  a  sense  of  injustice  toward  the  man  who 
had  robbed  him  of  the  possession  of  this  beauti- 
ful woman  whom  now  he  found  so  suited  to  his 
taste.  He  did  not  reason  that  to  Albrecht  must 
be  due  in  no  small  measure  this  transformation, 
and  if  such  a  thought  had  crossed  his  mind  he 
would  not  have  doubted  his  own  ability  to 
produce  the  same  result  had  Erna  been  his 
wife  instead  of  the  baron's. 

It  was  hardly  a  proof  of  the  vanity  of  the 
count  that  he  believed  that  his  cousin,  as  he 
continually  called  her,  making  of  the  relation- 
ship a  pretext  for  many  little  familiarities  which, 
albeit  they  were  harmless  enough,  caused  the 
eyes  of  Albrecht  to  glow  with  jealous  rage,  felt 
the  attraction  which  their  natures  had  for  each 
other.  She  showed  her  liking  by  tokens  which 
though  they  were  slight  were  unmistakable ;  and 
Count  Stephen,  who  had  had  not  a  little  expe- 
rience in  love  affairs,  smiled  to  himself  as  he 
reflected  upon  the  faint  pressure  of  the  hand, 
the  half  averted-glance,  the  almost  unheard  sigh 
which  he  had  from  time  to  time  won  from 
Erna. 

It  was  quite  in  keeping  with  the  count's 
cleverness  that  he  had  not  failed  to  perceive 
that  the  s}Tnpathy  between  Erna  and  her  hus- 


166  ALBRECHT. 

band  was  becoming  fainter.  It  was  evident 
that  every  day  they  found  themselves  less 
wholly  one.  More  and  more  did  the  baron 
give  himself  up  to  pious  studies,  while  Erna  was 
thus  more  and  more  thrown  into  the  company  of 
Von  Rittenberg.  Count  Stephen  had  secretly 
a  profound  contempt  for  his  host,  the  idea  of 
piety  and  that  of  study  being  alike  ridiculous  in 
his  mind.  He  admired  Albrecht's  skill  in  hunt- 
ing, his  strength,  and  his  superb  figure,  but  he 
was  never  able  to  look  upon  the  studies  which 
had  become  the  chief  interest  of  Albrecht's  daily 
life  as  other  than  a  subject  for  jest  and  ridicule. 
It  is  true  that  he  had  learned  that  Erna  resented 
his  jests  upon  this  theme,  but  he  was  acute 
enough  to  observe  that  her  anger  was  turned 
quite  as  much  toward  her  husband  for  giving 
occasion  for  them  as  at  her  guest  for  daring  to 
make  them.  He  found  in  the  Lady  Adelaide  an 
ally,  since  that  worldly  old  dame  liked  .the  ways 
of  Albrecht  no  more  than  did  Erna;  and  the 
fact  that  the  great-aunt  was  really  very  fond  of 
Albrecht  only  made  her  the  more  irritated  at 
his  course.  She  joined  with  Count  Stephen, 
and  often  the  quip  which  he  left  half  spoken 
was  taken  up  and  put  into  words  by  Lady 
Adelaide,  while  Erna  frowned  and  bit  her  lips 
with  vexation. 

"  Good  sooth,"  he   said   one  morning,  as  he 


HOW  THE   COUNT  TALKED  AND   SANG.       1 67 

sat  with  Erna,  who  was  working  a  tapestry  in 
which  with  cunning  skill  she  was  depicting 
those  wars  of  Charlemagne  in  which  her  father 
had  led  the  Swabian  guard  of  which  the  em- 
peror had  been  so  proud,  "  thy  husband  should 
to  court.  The  king  is  marvellously  well  dis- 
posed toward  learning.  Thou  knowest  he  hath 
forgiven  the  offence  of  Eginhard,  the  clerk,  and 
wed  him  to  the  fair  Emma,  his  own  daughter." 

"  And  what,"  asked  Lady  Adelaide,  whose 
bright  old  eyes  were  also  watching  her  nee- 
dle over  the  tapestry,  "  was  the  offence  of 
Eginhard?  " 

"  It  is  a  fair  tale,"  responded  he,  laughing. 
"  It  made  much  scandal.  This  Eginhard  is  a 
man  that  hath  hot  blood  though  he  be  clerkly, 
and  too  hath  he  good  trim  limbs  and  a  winning 
eye.  That  he  should  dare  to  raise  his  glance 
so  high  as  the  daughter  of  the  king  might  move 
one  to  wonder,  but  it  was  not  so  strange  that 
she  should  smile  upon  him  when  he  had  done 
so,  for  he  might  well  stir  a  maiden's  fancy. 
They  were  secret  in  their  loves,  but  not  for  the 
fear  of  the  displeasure  of  even  the  king,  her 
father,  could  they  restrain  the  fury  of  their 
passion,  and  one  night  did  Eginhard  steal  to 
the  chamber  of  the  princess,  there  to  enjoy  the 
fruits  of  his  wooing  without  more  delay,  or 
the  form  of  a  priest's  blessing." 


1 68  ALBRECHT. 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin !  "  exclaimed  Lady 
Adelaide;  "and  she  a  king's  daughter!" 

"  The  night  wasted,"  continued  the  count, 
"without  that  they  found  it  over-long,  I  trow; 
and  before  they  were  aware,  the  dawn  began  to 
appear.  Then  Eginhard  would  fain  have  gone 
the  way  he  came,  across  the  court,  but  the 
heavens  had  betrayed  them.  The  snow  had 
fallen  and  covered  the  ground  so  that  he  could 
not  step  without  leaving  the  trace." 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin  !  "  cried  Lady  Ade- 
laide, again  ;  "  that  was  the  judgment  of  Heaven 
upon  her  for  betraying  the  honor  of  the  king." 

"  Even  if  it  were,"  Count  Stephen  rejoined, 
"the  Princess  Emma  is  not  one  to  be  lightly 
daunted,  even  by  the  judgments  of  Heaven. 
She  was  well  aware  what  would  befall  her  lover 
if  the  track  of  his  footsteps  were  found  leading 
from  her  window,  but  she  trusted  that  her  royal 
father,  who  has  not  been  able  to  rein  in  his  own 
blood  over  well,  might  be  moved  to  forgive  her, 
if  it  appeared  that  the  transgression  had  been 
hers,  and  that  she  had  sought  her  lover's 
chamber." 

"  It  is  ever  the  woman  who  sacrifices  herself 

to  the  man,"  muttered    Lady  Adelaide.     Erna 

still  listened  to  the    tale    in    silence,  while  her 

cousin  watched  her  with  penetrating  gaze. 

"  So    the    princess   took   the    scribe    on    her 


HOW  THE   COUNT  TALKED   AND    SANG.       169 

shoulders,"  the  knight  went  on,  making  no 
reply  to  the  dame's  interjection,  "  and  carried 
him  across  the  court  to  his  own  window,  so  that 
only  her  tracks  would  appear  in  the  snow." 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin  !  "  ejaculated  Lady 
Adelaide,  for  the  third  time.  "  Is  it  thus  that 
they  do  at  court?  And  what  said  her  father 
when  he  was  told  that  she  had  been  with  the 
scribe  Eginhard?" 

"  As  fate  would  have  it,"  the  count  answered, 
pulling  at  the  long  silky  ears  of  the  hound  which 
lay  at  his  side,  "  the  king  himself  had  been  that 
morn  troubled  in  his  sleep,  and  had  risen  to 
stand  by  the  window  looking  out  at  the  newly 
fallen  snow  before  that  the  court  was  astir  to 
besmirch  it  with  their  footsteps;  and  with  his 
own  eyes  he  saw  his  daughter  carry  her  lover 
across  the  place." 

"  What  did  he?"  asked  Erna,  raising  her  eyes 
from  her  embroidery  for  the  first  time  since  the 
tale  began. 

"  Oh,  he  doubtless  cursed  for  a  little,  and 
then  he  remembered  himself,  like  the  wise  man 
that  he  is,  that  it  were  well  not  to  make  a  bad 
matter  worse,  and  that  love  is  free  and  not 
to  be  constrained  even  by  the  bidding  of  a 
king." 

He  looked  into  her  eyes  as  he  answered  thus, 
and  so  significant  a  glance  accompanied  his 


1 70  ALBRECHT. 

last  words  that  hers  fell  before  it.  She  flushed 
and  once  more  fixed  her  attention  upon  her 
embroidery,  while  Count  Stephen  went  on  to 
relate  how  Charlemagne  had  told  the  tale  before 
the  whole  court  to  the  shaming  of  the  offenders, 
and  had  then  forgiven  them  and  had  them 
married  out  of  hand. 

Then,  when  he  had  replied  to  the  questions 
of  Lady  Adelaide,  who  found  this  gossip  a  most 
savory  morsel  under  her  tongue,  he  suddenly 
caught  up  a  lute  that  lay  near  him  upon  the 
cushioned  window-ledge,  and  running  his  fingers 
across  the  strings  with  a  swift  rattling  of  tinkling 
notes,  sang  not  unmusically  this  song: 

"  The  bird  flies  jocund  through  the  sky, 

And  sports  in  upper  air, 
Only  too  soon  fluttering  to  lie, 
Caught  in  the  fowler's  snare ; 

The  wind  constrains  the  forest  tall, 

The  tempest  rules  the  sea ; 
The  mighty  hold  the  weak  in  thrall ; 
And  only  love  is  free. 

"  Nor  bonds,  nor  bars,  nor  word  of  hate, 

Can  love's  sweet  will  control ; 
Or  quench  the  flame  resistless  fate 
Hath  kindled  in  the  soul. 

The  mind  may  bow  to  slavish  law, 
As  kings  in  chains  may  be ; 


HOW  THE  COUNT  TALKED  AND   SANG.       171 

Reason  to  wisdom  bend  in  awe ; 
Yet  still  will  love  be  free. 

"  What 's  plighted  troth  or  formal  vow, 

When  hearts  are  turned  to  fire  ? 
As  chaff  on  tempests  blown,  I  trow, 
Such  bonds  before  desire  ! 
Let  whosoever  come  between, 

To  part  my  dear  and  me, 
I  'd  beat  down  all  to  reach  my  queen, 
And  make  our  loving  free  !  " 

His  voice  rang  out  with  a  strain  of  passion  as 
he  sang  these  last  words.  His  eyes  shone,  and 
he  bent  forward  toward  Erna  as  if  he  would 
constrain  her  to  understand  the  message  of  his 
song.  And  when  Erna,  rising  hastily,  dropped 
her  embroidery  and  hastened  out  of  the  hall, 
there  came  into  his  face  a  look  of  triumph  which 
it  was  ill  to  see.  He  bent  over  the  hound  at 
his  feet  to  conceal  it  from  Lady  Adelaide,  who 
looked  after  her  niece  with  astonishment. 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin,"  quoth  the  old  dame 
for  the  hundredth  time  that  morning,  "  but  she 
is  becoming  flighty  instead  of  settling  down,  now 
that  she  is  married." 

Meantime  Albrecht  sat  in  the  chamber  of 
the  priest,  learning  the  wonders  of  that  soul 
which  had  been  so  lately  bestowed  upon  him 
by  Heaven. 


1 72  ALBRECHT. 


XVII 
HOW  THEY   HUNTED  THE  STAG. 

IT  was  on  a  glorious  autumn  afternoon, 
when  all  the  air  was  fragrant  with  the 
odor  of  pine  trees  steeping  in  the  warm  sun- 
light, and  dim  with  the  hazes  which  were 
smoke-like  without  being  smoke,  that  the  folk 
of  Castle  Rittenberg  set  forth  to  hunt  the 
stag. 

While  the  hounds  were  baying  in  the  court- 
yard eager  to  be  off,  and  the  sound  of  tramp- 
ling horse's  hoof  and  jingling  bridle-rein,  with 
cry  of  groom  and  laugh  of  page,  came  through 
the  open  window,  Erna  and  Count  Stephen 
stood  in  the  hall  waiting  for  Albrecht.  At  a 
little  distance  stood  Fastrade  and  Elsa,  both 
of  whom  were  to  ride  with  Erna  to  follow  the 
hunt;  and  Elsa  said  to  her  companion,  point- 
ing to  the  boar-spear  which  still  stuck  in  the 
head  of  the  deer  that  hung  above  the  chimney- 
place  : 

"If  the  baron  can  but  make  such  another 
shot  as  that  he  made  when  he  thrust  that  spear 


HOW  THEY   HUNTED  THE   STAG.  173 

into  the  bone  from  the  other  end  of  the  hall, 
may  I  be  there  to  see !  " 

The  eyes  of  both  Erna  and  of  Count  Stephen 
turned  to  the  spear,  as  the  damsel  spoke;  and 
most  vividly  before  the  mind  of  the  countess 
came  up  the  picture  of  Albrecht  as  he  had 
flung  it  on  his  wedding  eve,  full  of  buoyant  life 
and  of  joyful  love. 

"  I  have  noticed  that  spear  before,"  Count 
Stephen  said,  turning  toward  his  cousin.  "  How 
came  it  there?  Did  the  baron  in  sooth  throw 
it  across  the  hall?  " 

"  Yea,"  she  answered ;  anct  then  she  was  si- 
lent because  there  came  over  her  a  feeling  that 
she  had  been  untrue  to  her  husband  by  the 
leaning  toward  her  companion  of  which  she 
had  been  half  conscious  in  her  secret  heart. 

"  It  was  indeed  a  shrewd  shot,"  observed 
Count  Stephen,  looking  upward  to  the  spear, 
which  was  high  above  their  heads. 

Erna  did  not  reply.  Suddenly  there  came 
into  her  mind,  with  the  picture  of  that  evening 
when  the  spear  was  thrown,  the  remembrance 
of  the  ring  which  had  been  given  her  by  Herr 
von  Zimmern  and  taken  from  her  by  Albrecht. 
She  tried  to  recall  exactly  what  had  been  said, 
but  she  had  forgotten  her  husband's  words,  only 
half  heard  when  they  were  spoken.  She  won- 
dered why  the  ring  had  never  been  restored 


174  ALBRECHT. 

to  her,  and  dimly  she  recalled  to  mind  the  fact 
that  it  had  been  engraved  with  symbols  which 
had  looked  to  her  in  the  brief  moment  she  had 
seen  the  jewel,  strange  and  mysterious. 

"  Albrecht,"  she  said  to  him  when  they  had 
mounted  and  were  riding  out  of  the  courtyard 
into  the  way  which  led  down  the  hill,  "  dost 
thou  not  remember  the  ring  that  Herr  von 
Zimmern  would  have  given  me  on  the  eve  of 
our  wedding  day?  " 

A  faint  shadow  crossed  his  face.  He  did  not 
look  toward  her,  but  pretended  to  busy  himself 
with  the  bridle  of  his  horse. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  remember  it.  It  was  over- 
bold of  him." 

"  I  see  not  that ;  but  that  is  no  matter  now. 
What  I  was  wondering  was  that  thou  didst 
never  give  me  the  jewel." 

"Hast  thou  not  rings  enough?"  he  asked 
lightly,  although  Erna  could  see  that  her  words 
troubled  him.  "  I  will  give  thee  more  jewels  if  so 
be  that  there  were  not  enough  in  the  caskets." 

"But  why  not  that  ring?"  Erna  persisted, 
urged  on  by  a  secret  conviction  that  here  was 
some  mystery.  "  I  seem  to  remember  that 
Herr  von  Zimmern  said  something  about  won- 
derful powers  in  that  ring  which  other  jewels 
have  not.  I  would  have  the  chance  to  test 
the  matter  for  myself." 


HOW  THEY   HUNTED- THE    STAG.  175. 

"  The  ring,"  Albrecht  answered  with  a  seri-' 
ousness  which  impressed  her,  and  which  yet 
rendered  her  only  the  more  anxious  to  pos- 
sess the  jewel,  "  had  indeed  strange  powers, 
but  they  were  unhallowed  ones.  It  were  not 
fitting  that  a  Christian  avail  himself  of  the 
spells  which  have  been  wrought  by  sinful  sor- 
ceresses." 

"  Thou  art  truly  become  virtuous,"  Erna  re- 
torted with  a  tone  in  which  she  had  never 
before  spoken  to  her  husband.  "  Good  sooth, 
when  thou  earnest  to  Rittenberg  I  heard  noth- 
ing of  scruples  so  nice  !  " 

Albrecht  turned  and  regarded  her  with  a 
glance  so  reproachful  and  so  full  of  pain  that 
she  could  not  bear  it.  She  struck  her  palfrey 
sharply  with  her  whip,  and  dashed  recklessly 
down  the  hill,  crying  out  to  Count  Stephen, 
who  had  been  in  advance  a  little  until  she 
thus  ran  by  him,  to  race  with  her.  Tears  of 
vexation  were  in  her  eyes  as  she  dashed  down 
the  woodland  path,  and  the  sting  of  her  own 
words  wounded  her  to  the  quick.  She  be- 
came recklessly  gay,  and  all  through  the  after- 
noon when  she  was  not  separated  from  her 
cousin  by  the  chances  of  the  chase  she  jested 
and  laughed  with  demonstrative  merriment. 

Through  the  thickets  where  the  leaves  had 
begun  to  fall,  under  pine  boughs  which  had 


1/6  ALBRECHT. 

strewn  the  ground  thick  with  brown  spicy 
needles  year  after  year  until  the  horses'  feet 
bounded  upon  an  elastic  cushion,  past  rocks 
violet  in  the  sun  and  rose-hued  in  the  half 
shadows,  over  meadows  set  with  jewel-tinted 
autumn  flowers,  sped  the  hunt,  the  mellow  bay- 
ing of  the  deep-mouthed  hounds  ringing  out 
upon  the  air,  and  the  horn  from  time  to  time 
waking  all  the  echoes  into  inspiring  music.  Erna 
kept  well  to  the  front.  She  had  never  ridden 
so  recklessly,  and  never  before  had  the  pas- 
sion of  the  sport  so  fired  her  blood.  She  was, 
moreover,  trying  to  escape  from  the  smart  of 
the  taunt  which  she  had  flung  at  her  husband, 
and  her  palfrey  flew  so  fast  that  sometimes 
she  even  led  the  way  for  the  huntsmen  to 
follow. 

Count  Stephen  was  never  far  away  from  her. 
Close  behind  or  beside  her  as  the  ways  through 
which  they  sped  allowed  him,  he  pressed  for- 
ward with  the  countess;  and  Erna  was  well 
aware  that  he  had  set  himself  to  keep  with  her, 
and  that  his  quest  that  day  was  not  simply  the 
stag  which  was  fleeing  before  the  deep-baying 
hounds,  but  rather  the  love  of  the  woman  with 
whom  he  went  crashing  through  the  thickets 
where  the  leaves  came  down  in  showers  about 
the  horses  and  the  wood-scents  rose  balsamic  or 
musky  under  the  beat  of  the  swift  hoofs  of 


HOW  THEY   HUNTED  THE  STAG.  177 

their  steeds.  She  was  so  conscious  of  his  pres- 
ence that  she  could  not  look  at  him,  but  kept 
her  face  turned  away,  urging  her  palfrey  for- 
ward rather  as  if  she  were  fleeing  than  as  if 
she  were  of  the  band  of  pursuers. 

And  now  and  then,  too,  she  had  a  strange 
sense  that  she  was  not  alone  with  her  com- 
panion, but  as  if  some  unseen  creature  were 
following  and  were  watching  her.  She  tried 
to  shake  off  the  notion ;  but  when  the  thickets 
rustled  after  they  had  both  drawn  rein  to  lis- 
ten for  the  hounds  and  to  recover  again  the 
trail  which  they  had  for  a  moment  lost,  she 
had  started  and  shivered,  remembering  the 
sprites  of  the  wood  that  have  the  power  of 
walking  invisible.  Then  she  would  glance  at 
the  count  and  backward  to  where  Fastrade 
strove  to  urge  her  palfrey  forward  lest  she 
lose  track  of  her  mistress  altogether,  and  with 
a  new  smile  upon  her  lips  would  once  more 
rush  madly  forward. 

The  hunt  was  not  long.  It  was  swift  and 
dashing,  the  stag  seeming  to  exhaust  himself 
in  one  grand  burst  at  the  outset;  and  before 
the  light  of  the  autumn  afternoon  had  waned 
the  yelping  of  the  hounds  and  the  baying 
of  the  beagles  told  that  they  were  almost  upon 
their  prey.  Erna  and  Count  Stephen  were  rid- 
ing desperately,  following  the  trail;  but  now 


1 78  ALBRECHT. 

the  countess,  who  knew  the  country  better  than 
her  companion,  suddenly  struck  off  along  the 
side  of  a  hill  which  the  hunt  had  crossed. 

"  Come  this  way,"  she  called  back  over  her 
shoulder  to  her  cousin.  "  We  shall  intercept 
them  thus  at  the  end  of  the  valley.  The  stag 
has  doubled." 

He  followed  without  hesitation,  and  in  brief 
space  they  burst  through  a  thicket  to  find 
themselves  at  the  head  of  a  little  valley  car- 
peted with  turf  still  green  and  untouched  by 
the  frost,  and  set  around  with  beech  trees 
whose  leaves  were  shining  with  the  slanting 
beams  of  the  sun,  which  shot  through  a  break 
in  the  hills  at  their  left  hand.  The  whole  vale 
was  illumined  with  the  red  light,  and  into  it, 
just  as  they  came  out  of  the  wood,  dashed  a 
superb  stag  of  ten,  the  dogs  already  at  his 
throat;  and  close  upon  his  track,  almost  within 
arm's  length,  madly  rode  Albrecht. 

"  I  thought  the  baron  had  been  behind," 
Count  Stephen  exclaimed  in  astonishment. 

"  His  woodcraft  is  too  good,"  Erna  returned. 
f<  It  is  idle  to  match  with  him ;  he  has  outridden 
us.  He  must  have  cut  across  our  track  at  the 
last  turning.  Mother  of  God  !  " 

Her  cry  was  one  of  mingled  astonishment 
and  of  dread.  Her  husband  had  taken  advan- 
tage of  a  stumble  which  the  unhappy  stag 


HOW  THEY   HUNTED   THE   STAG.  179 

made,  the  good  dog  Gelert  being  already  at 
the  beast's  throat,  to  drive  his  horse  abreast 
of  the  deer,  to  leap  from  his  saddle,  and  to 
seize  the  fleeing  animal  by  its  mighty  horns. 
The  pair  on  the  hillside  opposite  drew  rein 
involuntarily,  and  Erna  tried  to  call  out  to 
Albrecht,  in  the  vain  hope  that  he  might  free 
himself  from  a  position  of  so  much  danger. 
Before  she  could  speak,  however,  he  had  thrown 
all  his  force  into  one  powerful  effort,  and  be- 
fore their  eyes  had  twisted  the  head  of  the 
stag  half-way  around.  The  creature  dropped 
with  its  neck  broken,  falling  among  the  yelp- 
ing hounds  and  at  the  feet  of  Rupert,  the  mas- 
ter of  the  pack,  as  suddenly  as  if  an  arrow  had 
reached  his  heart. 

"  By  the  wounds  of  God  ! "  cried  Count  von 
Rittenberg,  pricking  his  horse  forward  down 
the  hillside ;  "  what  a  giant  is  this  !  " 

Erna  hastened  after,  her  heart  beating,  and 
all  her  body  burning  with,  the  sudden  rush 
of  blood  that  for  one  breathless  instant  had 
seemed  to  gather  itself  into  her  heart,  leaving 
her  cold  and  lifeless.  She  had  never  seen  her 
husband  as  in  this  act  he  had  revealed  him- 
self to  her,  and  she  was  divided  between  won- 
der and  a  fearful  admiration.  He  had  seemed 
a  creature  more  than  human  as  he  bent  the 
mighty  neck  of  the  great  stag,  and  there  was 


180  ALBRECHT. 

in  her  proud  sense  of  his  prowess  not  a  little 
feeling  of  dread  and  too  of  strangeness,  as  if  this 
hunter  were  not  only  the  husband  she  knew, 
but  some  strange  being  whose  true  nature  she 
had  never  before  suspected.  As  her  palfrey 
carried  her  across  the  narrow  valley,  she  re- 
membered the  taunt  she  had  flung  at  him  as 
they  left  the  castle,  and  it  flashed  through  her 
mind  that  anger  at  herself  might  have  mingled 
with  the  excitement  of  the  chase  to  move  him. 

The  hunt  was  all  about  the  dead  stag  by  the 
time  Erna  reached  the  spot.  Albrecht  came 
forward  to  help  her  dismount.  His  eyes  were 
shining,  his  cheek  was  flushed,  and  under  the 
open  collar  of  his  hunting-jacket,  pushed  back 
from  his  throat,  his  chest  rose  and  fell.  He 
had  never  looked  handsomer,  and  as  he  swung 
his  wife  down  from  her  palfrey,  she  brushed  his 
hand  with  a  quick  kiss.  The  restless  fancies 
which  had  been  weaving  themselves  about  her 
and  drawing  her  nearer  as  in  a  net  toward 
Count  Stephen  seemed  to  be  snapped  and 
swept  aside  in  an  instant,  and  her  heart  was  as 
truly  her  husband's  as  on  the  day  when  she 
had  wed. 


HOW   HERR  VON  ZIMMERN   CAME  AGAIN.     l8l 


XVIII 
HOW   HERR  VON   ZIMMERN   CAME  AGAIN. 

FOR  a  night  and  for  a  day  Erna's  love  of 
her  husband  burned  again  with  its  most 
ardent  flame ;  but  Albrecht,  so  far  from  re- 
joicing as  she  did  in  the  mighty  feat  he  had 
done  at  the  stag-hunt,  seemed  to  be  repentant 
that  his  old-time  mood  should  have  got  the 
better  of  him,  and  when  Erna  told  the  tale  of 
his  prowess  to  her  great-aunt  the  baron  has- 
tened to  change  the  conversation,  and  that  with 
the  air  of  regretting  and  being  ashamed  of  hav- 
ing given  way  to  the  impulse  of  the  moment. 

So  strangely  changed  was  Erna  from  the 
maiden  who  had  welcomed  Albrecht  to  Ritten- 
berg  that  she  could  not  even  understand  a  feel- 
ing so  nice,  but  only  felt  with  a  secret  irritation 
that  contempt  which  any  mortal  feels  for  a 
prejudice  which  he  has  outgrown ;  and  nothing 
appears  more  foolish  and  contemptible  than  a 
scruple  that  has  been  outlived.  Albrecht  and 
Erna  had  changed  each  other,  but  the  impetus 
in  each  case  had  been  so  strong  that  both  were 


1 82  ALBRECHT. 

carried  beyond  the  point  where  their  tastes 
and  desires  came  together.  It  was  as  if  two 
stars  had  attracted  each  other,  and  then  shot 
past  the  place  where  they  met,  parting  again 
from  the  stress  of  the  very  force  which  had 
drawn  them  toward  one  another.  Every  day 
they  seemed  to  have  less  in  common.  The 
glories  of  the  spiritual  drew  Albrecht  as  strongly 
and  as  irresistibly  as  the  delights  of  the  senses 
attracted  Erna,  to  whom  all  this  was  a  new 
world.  They  had  passed  each  other,  and  now 
they  were  parting  more  and  yet  more  widely. 

However  little  he  understood  the  cause  of 
this,  Count  Stephen  was  keenly  aware  of  the 
fact  that  Albrecht  and  Erna  were  not  fully  in 
harmony,  and  he  neglected  no  effort  which 
might  increase  the  breach  between  husband 
and  wife.  He  had  set  himself  to  win  the  love 
of  his  cousin,  and  it  was  an  important  part  of 
his  game  to  nourish  the  growing  lack  of  sym- 
pathy between  Von  Waldstein  and  the  countess. 
Nor  was  the  count  without  a  deal  of  cleverness 
in  the  way  he  set  to  work  to  accomplish  his 
purpose.  He  said  nothing  directly;  he  made 
no  move  openly;  but  with  a  thousand  insidious 
words  which  in  themselves  meant  little  but 
which  together  were  a  mighty  power  for  evil, 
he  nourished  the  sparks  of  discontent  in  Erna's 
mind,  and  continually  kept  her  attention  fixed 


HOW   HERR  VON   ZIMMERN   CAME  AGAIN.     183 

upon  the  fact  that  her  husband  was  more  en- 
grossed in  his  studies  with  the  priest  than  with 
her  wishes  and  her  beauty.  He  surrounded  her 
with  a  dangerous  and  seductive  atmosphere  of 
devotion  and  of  passionate  admiration,  furnish- 
ing her  conscience  with  a  ready  excuse,  should 
it  take  alarm,  by  claiming  the  right  to  admire 
her  in  virtue  of  his  cousinship. 

How  much  of  this  Albrecht  saw  or  knew, 
Von  Rittenberg  could  not  divine.  Sometimes 
he  had  an  uncomfortable  feeling  that  the  baron 
was  better  aware  than  appeared  of  what  was 
going  on,  but  as  Albrecht  gave  no  sign  he 
consoled  himself  with  the  belief  that  his  host 
was  too  deeply  absorbed  in  his  pious  studies  to 
heed  whether  one  made  love  to  Erna  or  not. 

It  was  not  many  days  after  the  stag-hunt  that 
Herr  von  Zimmern  suddenly  appeared  at  the 
castle.  Whence  he  came  no  one  knew,  but  as 
they  sat  at  breakfast  in  the  hall  he  entered,  and 
with  no  more  greeting  than  if  he  had  parted 
from  them  all  on  the  evening  before,  he  took 
his  place  at  the  board  and  ate  with  the  rest. 

Count  Stephen  regarded  him  closely.  There 
was  something  in  the  manner  of  this  man  which 
attracted  his  attention,  and  it  had  seemed  to 
him  that  a  shadow  crossed  the  brow  of  the 
master  of  the  castle  when  the  new-comer  ap- 
peared. Von  Rittenberg  instinctively  felt  that 


1 84  ALBRECHT. 

here  might  be  an  ally.  He  understood  that 
Von  Zimmern  had  been  a  retainer  of  the  baron, 
and  it  seemed  to  him  natural  enough  to  sup- 
pose that  the  man  might  be  in  possession  of 
secrets  concerning  the  former  life  of  Albrecht 
which,  discreetly  poured  into  the  ear  of  Erna, 
would  aid  him  in  his  dishonorable  wooing. 

He  greeted  Von  Zimmern  with  warmth,  re- 
calling their  meeting  at  Mayence,  and  express- 
ing pleasure  at  seeing  him  again.  The  cunning 
eyes  of  Herr  Frederich  twinkled  upon  him  as 
he  spoke,  and  Stephen  felt  that  here  wag  a 
man  to  understand  him,  and  more  than  before 
was  he  sure  that  in  Albrecht's  former  tutor  he 
should  find  one  to  assist  him  in  his  schemes. 
He  watched  for  what  speech  should  be  between 
the  baron  and  the  other,  and  as  they  left  the 
hall,  he  saw  the  master  of  the  castle  lay  his 
hand  upon  the  man's  shoulder.  Hastily  the 
count  approached  them,  and  while  he  seemed 
intent  upon  searching  in  his  pouch  for  some- 
thing which  he  wanted,  he  contrived  to  over- 
hear what  was  said  between  them. 

"  Herr  Frederich,"  Albrecht  said,  his  voice 
so  even  that  the  listener  could  not  determine 
whether  he  spoke  in  approval  or  in  disappro- 
bation, "  we  had  not  thought  to  see  thee  again 
at  Rittenberg.  When  I  set  thee  at  liberty,  it 
was  to  rejoin  thy  family." 


HOW   HERR  VON  ZIMMERN  CAME  AGAIN.     185 

"  My  family,  gracious  Sir,"  the  other  replied 
in  a  voice  as  passionless  as  Albrecht's  own, 
"  my  family  I  found  not.  Only  their  graves 
were  left  to  tell  that  they  had  ever  been." 

The  hand  of  the  baron  dropped  from  the 
shoulder  of  the  cripple,  and  an  expression  of 
pain  contracted  his  features.  He  stood  an  in- 
stant in  silence,  and  then  with  an  evident  strug- 
gle he  held  out  his  hand. 

"Regret  cannot  change  the  past,"  he  said; 
"but  for  the  future  —  " 

He  seemed  suddenly  to  become  conscious 
that  the  count  was  so  near  him,  and  broke  off 
in  his  speech,  going  hastily  out  of  the  hall. 
Nor  did  it  escape  the  notice  of  Count  Stephen 
that  Von  Zimmern  looked  after  him  with  an 
expression  of  hatred  so  intense  that  his  whole 
face  was  transformed  by  it  into  the  likeness  of 
a  demon. 

The  coming  of  Herr  Frederich  to  Ritten- 
berg  seemed  to  increase  the  gayety  that  al- 
ready reigned  there.  He  devoted  himself  to 
devising  fresh  amusements ;  and  although  Count 
Stephen  suspected  that  his  jollity  was  but 
feigning,  he  was  the  merriest  of  them  all,  and 
provoked  them  constantly  to  laughter  and  to 
jesting. 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin  !  "  cried  Lady  Ade- 
laide, when  one  night  he  had  made  them  all  shout 


1 86  ALBRECHT. 

with  laughter  over  the  merry  tales  which  he  told 
as  they  sat  around  the  fire  in  the  hall,  "  thou 
art  a  mad  wag.  One  can  see  that  no  care  or 
sorrow  ever  trouble  thine  heart." 

And  Count  Stephen  saw  how  Albrecht  re- 
garded the  story-teller  from  where  he  sat  some- 
what in  the  shadow,  sighing  as  if  he  were  aware 
that  under  this  gayety  there  were  both  pain  and 
bitterness. 

From  day  to  day  as  the  time  went  on,  Count 
Stephen  discovered  that  without  his  having 
asked  aid  from  Herr  von  Zimmern,  the  latter 
was  working  for  him.  There  was  nothing  open, 
and  nothing  which  by  itself  might  not  have 
been  the  result  of  accident.  It  was  only  that 
Herr  Frederich  would  engage  Albrecht  in 
conversation  or  lead  him  away  that  Count 
Stephen  might  be  left  alone  with  Erna;  or 
again  he  would  remark  casually  that  he  had 
seen  the  countess  sitting  by  herself,  and  that 
her  husband  was  with  Father  Christopher; 
hints  which  enabled  Von  Rittenberg  to  be  with 
his  cousin  almost  constantly,  and  much  of  the 
time  without  witnesses. 

As  warmly  as  he  dared,  the  count  pressed 
his  suit.  He  was  too  determined  to  win  to 
risk  a  rash  declaration  in  words  of  the  passion 
which  really  consumed  him.  He  was  a  man 
so  accustomed  to  succeed  in  such  a  quest  as 


HOW   HERR  VON  ZIMMERN  CAME  AGAIN.     187 

this  that  the  difficulty  of  the  present  endeavor 
increased  his  ardor  an  hundred-fold.  The  looks, 
half  of  reproof  and  half  of  invitation,  which 
Erna  gave  him,  the  beauty  in  which  she  glowed 
yet  more  richly  every  day,  incited  him  to  a 
madness  which  was  fast  reaching  a  point  be- 
yond his  control.  He  trembled  as  he  approached 
his  cousin,  and  he  felt  that  she  was  aware  of 
his  passion ;  and  yet,  though  he  saw  her  cast 
down  her  eyes  when  he  came  and  follow  him 
with  longing  looks  when  he  went,  he  dared  not 
speak.  He  was  too  well  aware  that  when  he 
spoke  he  put  all  to  the  test,  and  that  he  must 
lose  or  gain  upon  a  single  cast.  He  knew  his 
cousin  well  enough,  and  the  Von  Rittenberg 
blood,  to  feel  sure  that  if  she  did  not  listen  with 
yielding  favor  to  his  suit,  she  would  no  longer 
tolerate  his  presence  at  the  castle ;  and  he  feared 
to  put  into  word  that  which  he  yet  told  her  by 
look  and  mien  a  hundred  times  each  day. 

He  was  not  without  some  fear,  too,  of  Al- 
brecht.  Count  Stephen  was  a  brave  man,  but 
the  baron  was  one  of  whom  the  bravest  could 
not  think  lightly,  and  when  it  came  to  a  ques- 
tion of  wronging  him  through  his  wife,  the 
count  was  well  persuaded  that  if  this  thing  were 
ever  discovered,  it  would  be  no  easy  matter  to 
hold  against  the  wronged  husband.  Just  now 
Albrecht  was  greatly  engaged  in  looking  after 


1 88  ALBRECHT. 

the  state  of  his  thralls  and  churls,  and  seeing 
that  they  were  properly  housed  for  the  coming 
winter;  a  business  in  which  he  had  been  en- 
couraged by  Father  Christopher,  but  which 
the  guest  declared  should  be  the  affair  of  the 
steward  and  not  of  the  lord  of  the  castle.  Also 
Albrecht  set  himself  to  bringing  peace  among 
the  dependants  of  Rittenberg,  and  so  far  as 
might  be  justice  between  man  and  man,  and 
friendliness.  He  was  evidently  none  the  less 
attached  to  his  wife,  but  every  day  was  Count 
Stephen  more  confident  that  Erna  found  her- 
self less  in  sympathy  with  her  husband  and 
more  nearly  drawn  to  him. 

One  morning  Erna  found  her  cousin  sitting 
alone  by  the  great  window  of  the  hall,  and 
came  toward  him  with  a  smiling  and  mis- 
chievous face. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  "  thou  shalt  see  something 
wicked.  I  have  only  half  looked  at  it  myself, 
and  I  doubt  it  would  be  wise  that  I  look  fur- 
ther; but  thou  art  not  one,  I  trow,  who  will 
wince  lightly." 

"  The  wickedness  which  thou  shalt  tempt  me 
into,"  he  answered,  "  I  will  gladly  bear  the  pen- 
alty of,  at  least,  fair  Cousin.  What  wickedness 
can  be  hidden  in  that  roll  of  satin?" 

"  Thou  shalt  see,"  she  answered,  unrolling 
the  embroidered  cover,  and  bringing  to  light  a 


HOW   HERR  VON  ZIMMERN   CAME  AGAIN.     189 

parchment  scroll.  "  It  has  been  put  away  this 
many  a  day,  and  I  only  now  bethought  me 
of  it." 

"  If  it  is  written  wickedness,"  the  count  ob- 
served, languidly  regarding  it,  "  it  is  likely  to 
do  me  small  harm.  I  have  never  bothered  my 
head  to  learn  their  clerkly  nonsense." 

"  This  is  in  signs  that  one  may  understand 
if  he  cannot  read,"  Erna  replied,  putting  into 
his  hand  the  parchment. 

It  was  the  scroll  of  Ovid  which  for  years  she 
had  kept  hidden  away  because  of  the  worldli- 
ness  of  its  pictures.  The  count  regarded  the 
images  wherewith  some  gross  clerk  had  deco- 
rated the  works  of  the  heathen  poet,  and  the 
smile  upon  his  broad  lips  deepened  into  a 
laugh.  He  was  surprised  that  Erna  should 
have  shown  him  a  parchment  so  marked,  and 
he  looked  up  from  one  of  the  pictures  to  see 
if  she  were  really  aware  what  she  had  given 
him.  She  intercepted  his  glance,  and  smiling 
bent  forward  to  see  what  the  picture  might 
be  at  which  he  looked.  As  her  eyes  fell  upon 
it  a  crimson  flush  covered  her  face,  and  she 
caught  the  parchment  from  his  hands. 

"  Let  me  have  it,"  she  exclaimed.  "  I  did 
not  know  it  was  like  that.  I  should  have  ex- 
amined it  before  I  showed  it  to  thee.  I  only 
thought  it  might  amuse  thee." 


IQO  ALBRECHT. 

As  she  spoke  she  turned  quickly,  hearing 
footsteps  behind  her.  Albrecht  and  Herr  von 
Zimmern  had  come  together  into  the  hall,  and 
were  witness  of  her  confusion. 

"  Herr  Frederich  has  a  plan  for  repairing  the 
southern  tower  which  he  wishes  to  tell  to  thee," 
Albrecht  said  to  his  wife,  apparently  without 
noting  her  excitement. 

He  stood  there  so  calm,  so  noble  in  his 
bearing  and  his  appearance,  that  even  Count 
Stephen,  for  the  moment  deeply  concerned  lest 
the  scroll  of  Ovid  should  fall  into  the  husband's 
hands,  could  not  but  admire  him.  He  did  not 
look  at  the  guest,  and  in  his  manner  toward  his 
wife  there  was  nothing  to  denote  that  he  sus- 
pected that  aught  was  wrong. 

"  But  perhaps,"  the  voice  of  Herr  von  Zim- 
mern suggested,  "  this  is  not  the  time  to  talk 
of  such  matters.  Perhaps  we  interrupt  some- 
thing. That  scroll  may  be  of  importance." 

He  spoke  with  a  careful  appearance  of  hu- 
mility; yet  the  count,  watching  him  with  atten- 
tion which  was  quickened  by  irritation,  detected 
a  gleam  of  malice  in  his  eye,  and  from  that 
moment  suspected  the  friendship  of  the  cripple. 

"  The  scroll  is  naught  of  importance,"  Erna 
replied  haughtily;  and  for  that  time  no  more 
was  said  of  the  scroll  of  Ovid. 


HOW   ERNA   AND    ALBRECHT  TALKED.      19 1 


XIX 

HOW   ERNA   AND   ALBRECHT  TALKED 
OF  LIFE. 

NOT  entirely  had  Albrecht  and  Erna  lost 
the  old  fashion  of  reading  and  of  talking 
together,  although  after  the  coming  of  Count 
Stephen  and  yet  more  after  Herr  von  Zimmern 
had  returned  to  the  castle,  so  greatly  was  the 
time  taken  up  with  the  chase  and  with  jocund 
sports  and  with  feasting,  that  there  was  little 
space  in  which  to  carry  on  the  former  studies. 
One  morning  when  the  rain  was  beating  against 
the  castle  casements  and  the  spirits  of  the 
storm  were  shrieking  over  the  forest,  they  sat 
together  in  a  chamber,  and  talked  of  the 
things  which  now  were  of  chief  interest  to  the 
husband. 

"  I  cannot  tell  how  it  hath  chanced,"  Albrecht 
said,  "  that  we  read  so  little  together  now." 

"  In  the  long  winter  there  will  be  time  enough 
for  that,"  Erna  answered.  "  Thou  wouldst  not 
have  me  like  a  clerk  that  cannot  get  his  nose 
clear  of  a  book.  In  sooth,  I  might  as  well  be 
a  nun  at  once  and  done  with  it." 


IQ2  ALBRECHT. 

Her  husband  looked  at  her  in  troubled  silence 
a  moment. 

"  Meseemeth,  sweetheart,"  he  said  wistfully, 
"  that  I  have  made  thee  like  to  that  which  I 
was  myself  when  first  I  came  to  thee  out  of 
the  wood." 

"  And  meseemeth,  certes,"  she  answered,  with 
a  faint  touch  of  scorn  in  her  tone,  "  that  I  have 
made  thee  like  to  that  which  I  was  when  thou 
earnest.  I  was  but  a  dull  brooder  over  pious 
scrolls,  and  not  in  the  least  did  I  know  what 
life  meant." 

"And  what  does  life  mean  to  thee  now?" 
he  asked. 

"That  thou  needest  not  to  ask,  for  of  a 
surety  thou  knewest  when  thou  didst  come  to 
Rittenberg." 

"  But  tell  me,  sweetheart." 

"Life  means  delight;  it  is  to  be  glad  and 
jocund.  To  be  sad  and  moping  is  to  be  dead," 
Erna  cried'impulsively.  "  Life  is  the  chase  and 
the  dance  and  the  feast;  it  is  joy.  Life  is  to- 
day, and  not  to-morrow;  life  is  to  do,  not  to 
wait;  it  is  to  rejoice,  not  to  mourn.  Callest 
thou  that  life  which  mews  itself  up  in  a  cell  like 
the  dungeon  of  a  felon,  and  flickers  out  like  a 
candle  in  the  dark?  I  trow  that  that  is  not 
life;  it  is  only  the  poor,  pale  shadow  of  it." 

"  That  is  life  as  thou  sayest,"  Albrecht  re- 


HOW   ERNA  AND   ALBRECHT  TALKED.     193 

turned,  "  that  rejoices,  and  that  takes  delight  in 
the  chase  and  the  feast  and  the  dance;  but 
even  the  beasts  of  the  forest  and  the  nixies 
and  the  kobolds  can  share  all  of  these  things. 
Surely  thou  dost  not  count  this  the  whole  of 
life?" 

"  Not  the  whole ;  no.  Yet  it  is  all  that  one 
can  be  sure  of  finding  pleasure  in;  all  that — " 

"Nay,"  Albrecht  interrupted  softly;  "since 
thou  thyself  hast  taught  me  that  man  has  other 
within  him  than  the  sense  of  the  beasts  and  the 
wood -folk  in  the  forest  yonder,  thou  shalt  not 
now  belie  thyself  by  putting  thy  kind  on  a  level 
with  the  brutes.  It  is  to  foster  the  spirit  which 
he  alone  of  all  living  beings  hath,  that  man 
should  make  his  cumber,  rather  than  to  feed 
upon  the  delights  of  the  body." 

"  Beshrevv  me,"  cried  Erna,  "  but  thou  talkest 
as  if  I  had  indeed  taken  thee  in  hand  to  instruct 
thee  as  a  master  teacheth  a  pupil." 

"  It  can  scarce  be,"  he  responded,  "  that  two 
live  together,  the  more  if  they  love  each  the 
other,  without  that  they  do  teach  and  mould 
each  the  other.  Thou  hast  in  sooth  instructed 
me  in  much  more  than  thou  knowest,  sweet- 
heart ;  and  I  would  that  I  had  as  well  influenced 
thee  as  thou  hast  me.  Of  a  truth  our  lives  now 
are  that  which  we  have  made  each  other;  and 
it  behooveth  us  to  look  to  it  well  that  it  be  the 
13 


194  ALBRECHT. 

life  of  the  soul  rather  than  of  the  body,  which 
engageth  us." 

"  In  good  sooth,"  Erna  laughed  back  mock- 
ingly, "  now  thou  talkest  like  a  priest.  Father 
Christopher  shall  give  thee  his  gown,  and  thou 
shalt  be  sent  to  preach  to  the  Huns  and  the 
Saxons  in  the  north." 

Albrecht  cast  down  his  eyes  and  sighed  so 
heavily  that  Erna  put  her  hand  upon  his  arm 
and  added  coaxingly: 

"  Nay,  dear  heart,  thou  shalt  not  be  vexed 
with  me.  I  did  but  jest.  I  feel  all  that  thou 
sayest,  but  the  joy  of  life  overcomes  me.  I 
cannot  see  why  I  should  let  to-day  slip  when 
to-morrow  may  be  I  know  not  what ;  when  old 
age  will  come  so  soon,  and  I  shall  have  strength 
for  naught  but  to  sit  in  the  chimney-corner  and 
think  of  what  I  would  have  done  or  of  what 
others  may  still  do." 

"  Thou  art  right,  sweetheart,"  Albrecht  said, 
"  in  that  thou  wouldst  live  to-day;  but  thou  art 
wrong  in  that  thou  thinkest  the  best  joys  are  in 
the  sports  of  mirth  and  wantonness.  Surely 
thou  hast  tasted  the  pleasures  of  the  spirit 
within  thee,  and  thou  knowest  that  these  are  no 
less  but  rather  more  than  those  of  the  body. 
And  for  old  age  and  its  coming,  since  thou 
canst  not  tell  of  to-morrow,  thinkest  thou  that 
it  were  a  better  preparation  for  a  joyful  morrow 


HOW   ERNA  AND  ALBRECHT  TALKED.     195 

to  live  in  jollity  and  in  earthly  wise,  or  to 
cherish  the  soul  that  is  within  thee  to  the  end 
that  in  after  time  it  shall  be  a  companion  to 
thee?" 

Erna  tossed  up  her  hands  with  a  wilful  ges- 
ture of  mockery  and  determination.  Then  she 
sprang  to  her  feet  and  threw  her  arms  about  her 
husband's  neck  and  kissed  him. 

"  Come,"  she  cried,  "  thou  wert  not  wont  to 
be  so  dull  and  so  clerkly.  Leave  these  things 
for  Father  Christopher.  Is  not  my  kiss  better 
than  aught  thou  canst  find  in  the  scroll  of  Saint 
Cuthbert?  When  we  are  old  we  will  sit  in  the 
ingle  together  and  learn  all  manner  of  pious 
lore  for  the  good  of  our  souls ;  but  now  we  are 
young,  and  it  is  wisdom  to  seize  upon  youth 
while  it  is  ours." 

"  Truly,"  he  answered ;  "  and  yet  it  were  well, 
too,  to  consider  that  the  youth  of  the  spirit 
should  not  be  disregarded  more  than  the  youth 
of  the  body.  Of  a  truth,"  he  went  on,  his  voice 
dropping,  and  a  new  light  coming  into  his  eyes, 
"  what  am  I,  sweetheart,  to  tell  thee  what  the 
spirit  is,  when  thou  hast  changed  me  from  a 
wood  thing  that  knew  not  of  the  spirit  of  man, 
into  that  I  am ;  and  yet  so  vast  and  so  holy  do 
these  things  of  the  spirit  appear  to  me  that  I 
tremble,  and  all  my  heart  is  stirred.  It  is  as  if 
one  approached  the  place  of  a  god,  is  it  not, 


196  ALBRECHT. 

Erna,  only  to  think  upon  the  possibilities  of 
what  is  within  us.  How  can  I  be  content  to 
become  once  more  that  which  I  have  been,  a 
creature  as  insensible  to  all  this  as  the  wolf  that 
howls  in  the  forest  down  there,  and  only  cares 
for  what  he  shall  eat  to-day?  I  am  over- 
whelmed only  to  see  how  great  and  how  noble 
are  the  things  to  which  the  soul  of  man  may 
reach  out." 

Erna  was  silent  a  moment,  impressed  by 
his  earnestness;  then  she  shook  herself  and 
laughed. 

"  Hast  thou  then  been  a  beast  in  the  forest, 
or  one  of  the  wood-creatures?  "  she  demanded 
mockingly.  "Of  what  good  is  all  this  talk?  Let 
us  go  down  to  the  hall  and  hear  Count  Stephen 
sing  the  ballads  he  hath  learned  at  court." 

"  And  it  seemeth  to  me,"  Albrecht  said,  de- 
taining her  yet  a  moment  longer,  "  that  thou 
goest  to  the  forest  too  much.  The  creatures  of 
the  wood  are  on  the  side  of  body ;  and  not  that 
only,  but  they  make  for  evil,  and  thou  canst 
not  tell  how  they  may  lure  thee  on  to  do  that 
which  is  forbidden." 

"  Am  I  not,  then,  of  strength  great  enough  to 
guard  myself  from  the  ill  counsels  of  the  wood- 
folk?"  she  asked,  smiling  upon  him.  "  Me- 
thinks  that  they  can  do  small  harm  to  Christian 
folk." 


HOW   ERNA  AND  ALBRECHT  TALKED.     197 

"  They  can  do  no  harm  to  him  that  is  in 
himself  armed  against  them,"  Albrecht  an- 
swered gravely;  "  but  they  are  ever  in  wait  for 
those  whose  mind  may  turn  toward  them  and 
toward  forbidden  pleasures." 

Erna  flushed  faintly,  and  her  lips  parted  as  if 
she  would  speak  in  impatience  or  anger;  then 
she  controlled  herself,  and  replied  with  a  show 
of  gayety : 

"  Then  it  were  wise  not  to  forbid  me  aught, 
since  then  there  will  be  no  chance  for  me  to 
follow  after  forbidden  things." 

And  so  she  departed  out  of  the  chamber,  and 
sought  out  Count  Stephen  with  the  petition  that 
he  sing  to  her;  a  request  which  he  was  not 
slow  to  grant. 


ig8  ALBRECHT. 


XX 

HOW  THEY  RODE  TO   FLY    THE    FALCON. 

THE  wood  was  filled  with  whispers  in  the 
autumn  afternoon,  as  if  the  trees  were 
telling  one  another  things  which  were  to  come 
to  them  soon,  gossip  leaning  toward  gossip  with 
confidential  mien.  The  sense  of  unseen  crea- 
tures, presences  quick  with  the  keen  life  of  their 
kind  yet  not  sharing  in  human  being,  was  dif- 
fused through  the  air  like  the  scent  of  the  fallen 
leaves.  The  Countess  Erna,  who  rode  here  to- 
day, felt  a  vague  dread,  even  in  the  sunlight 
and  with  her  troop  to  come  to  her  aid  in 
case  harm  threatened  her.  She  had  a  feel- 
ing as  if  she  were  watched  and  followed  by 
the  wood-folk,  and  had  it  not  been  that  she 
was  much  engrossed  with  the  consciousness 
of  Count  Stephen's  presence  she  might  have 
turned  homeward. 

As  it  was  she  struck  her  palfrey  sharply  with 
her  whip,  and  went  galloping  through  the  wood, 
with  her  cousin  close  after.  On  her  wrist  was 
her  favorite  falcon,  his  bell  tinkling  as  she  rode. 


HOW  THEY   RODE   TO    FLY  THE   FALCON.     199 

The  west  wind  fanned  her  cheeks,  hot  with  the 
flush  which  had  sprung  in  them  at  the  soft 
words  Von  Rittenberg  had  been  whispering 
into  her  ears  as  they  came  through  the  pine 
wood  below  the  castle  steep.  She  heard  the 
hoof-beats  of  his  horse  behind  her  like  an  echo, 
which  repeated  the  things  he  had  been  saying, 
and  although  she  knew  beyond  peradventure 
that  she  should  lose  in  his  esteem  by  not  show- 
ing him  that  she  was  angry,  yet  withal  so  little 
had  she  been  in  sooth  displeased,  that  she  could 
but  illy  feign  displeasure. 

As  they  rode,  the  mind  of  the  countess  was 
busy  with  an  endeavor  to  understand  her  own 
feelings,  as  a  fly  which  hath  been  ensnared  by 
the  spider  struggles  to  regain  the  freedom  of 
his  wings.  She  was  herself  entangled  in  a  web 
of  circumstance  and  of  passion,  and  she  glowed 
with  a  warmth  which  was  at  once  shame  and 
desire.  She  was  not  without  some  proper  in- 
dignation against  Count  Stephen,  and  yet  she 
desired  with  a  curiosity  which  was  not  all  un- 
willing, to  learn  what  more  he  would  dare  to 
whisper  in  her  ear  before  they  came  again  to 
the  castle  from  this  hunt  upon  which  she  had 
ridden  against  the  wish  of  her  husband.  Her 
blood  seemed  on  fire.  She  repeated  to  herself 
the  words  in  which  she  had  for  the  first  time  set 
at  naught  the  wishes  of  Albrecht,  and  with 


2OO  ALBRECHT. 

strange  inconsistency  she  was  angry  that  he  had 
not  forced  her  to  remain  at  the  castle.  She 
said  to  herself  that  when  she  had  declared  her 
defiance  of  his  will  that  she  go  not  with  the 
count  to  fly  the  falcon,  her  husband  should 
have  constrained  her  to  obedience.  She  could 
not  divine  why  it  was  that  Albrecht  seemed  to 
look  upon  her  as  a  being  higher  than  himself, 
and  to  yield  to  her  will  as  if  it  were  that  of  one 
who  had  the  right  to  command.  He  seemed 
less  strong  and  noble  than  she  had  believed  him 
when  he  failed  to  bend  her  pride  to  his  wish. 

Erna  was  a  woman,  and  she  did  not  ask  her- 
self what  would  have  been  her  feelings  had  she 
at  this  moment  been  a  prisoner  at  home,  instead 
of  careering  thus  across  the  forest  with  the  soft 
west  wind  blowing  in  her  face  and  a  tingling 
sense  of  the  hoof-beats  of  Count  Stephen's  steed 
just  behind  her.  Though  it  be  not  when  they 
are  most  kindly  entreated  that  women  be  most 
just,  yet  are  they  not  to  be  constrained  into 
doing  justice  to  those  who  love  them. 

Very  lovely  was  the  countess  to-day,  as  she 
rode  through  the  greenwood.  She  was  clad  in 
a  robe  of  green  cloth,  the  color  of  the  new  tips 
of  the  pine  branches  in  the  springtime.  Her 
cap  was  embroidered  with  gold,  and  its  tuft  of 
heron's  plume  was  held  in  its  place  by  a  clasp 
of  jewels.  Her  hawk  was  a  jerfalcon  as  white 


HOW  THEY   RODE  TO   FLY  THE   FALCON.     2OI 

as  the  snow  new-fallen,  upon  which  the  sun 
shines  ere  yet  it  hath  been  smirched  or  sullied; 
and  his  hood  and  jesses  were  of  crimson,  of 
the  same  hue  as  her  gloves,  which  were  richly 
enwrought  with  golden  thread  in  quaint  devices. 
The  spotless  plumage  of  the  bird  against  the 
red  of  the  glove  was  wondrously  fair  to  see,  and 
wondrously  fair  was  the  lady  as  she  carried  the 
falcon  against  her  breast. 

Little  did  it  please  the  temper  of  Erna  that 
Herr  von  Zimmern  should  have  taken  it  upon 
himself  to  suppose  that  she  rode  to-day  because 
he  had  been  to  the  trouble  of  riding  in  the  early 
morning  to  the  meadow  by  the  lake  and  bring- 
ing word  again  that  the  ducks,  now  on  their 
way  southward,  were  there.  She  was  well  as- 
sured in  her  own  mind  that  she  had  been 
minded  to  please  no  one  but  herself  when  she 
had  insisted  in  setting  out  despite  the  wish  of 
Albrecht  that  she  go  not.  Certainly  she  had 
no  longing  to  show  friendliness  to  Herr  von 
Zimmern  for  his  service,  since  to  say  sooth  the 
prejudice  which  she  had  from  his  first  coming 
held  against  the  cripple  had  in  no  wise  softened 
with  time,  albeit  he  had  seemed  to  be  devoted 
to  Albrecht  and  to  her;  neither  had  it  been 
her  wish,  she  assured  herself,  to  pleasure  Count 
Stephen,  however  his  earnestness  in  the  matter 
might  seem  to  give  color  to  such  a  supposition. 


202  ALBRECHT. 

She  was  only  of  the  mind  to  come,  and  to  show 
her  husband,  who  each  day  became  more  and 
more  wearisomely  given  to  devout  matters,  that 
she  was  not  to  be  ruled  by  his  unreasonable 
whims  and  to  shut  herself  up  as  if  she  were  a 
nun  in  a  cloister  instead  of  being  lady  of 
Rittenberg,  the  fairest  holding  in  all  the  country 
round. 

She  was  not  without  a  secret  anger  that  Al- 
brecht  gave  no  sign  of  seeing  how  his  guest 
was  striving  to  steal  away  the  heart  of  his  wife. 
She  set  her  teeth  with  vexation  that  no  token 
indicated  that  the  baron  was  even  aware  of  the 
peril  in  which  his  happiness  stood.  She  said  to 
herself  that  there  could  be  little  love  where  one 
saw  only  such  indifference.  Her  clear  cheek 
flushed  hotly  as  the  thought  came  that  it  might 
after  all  be  indifference  rather  than  blindness 
which  made  her  husband  so  calm.  She  recalled 
that  while  he  wooed  her  he  had  found  the  kisses 
of  Elsa  to  his  liking,  and  the  doubt  whether  he 
were  not  one  of  the  men  whose  affection  goes 
as  lightly  as  it  comes,  pierced  her  heart.  The 
very  suspicion  made  her  hot  with  rage. 

Yet  surely  Albrecht  had  declared  that  the 
caress  of  no  other  woman  could  evermore  be 
sweet  to  him ;  it  was  only  that  he  was  sunk  into 
this  mire  of  religious  musing  in  which  Father 
Christopher  encouraged  him.  She  half  hated 


HOW  THEY   RODE  TO   FLY  THE   FALCON.     203 

the  old  priest  at  the  thought.  She  wondered 
how  far  it  would  be  possible  for  Count  Stephen 
to  carry  his  wooing  before  the  wrath  of  Al- 
brecht  would  break  out.  The  question  affected 
her  almost  as  if  she  already  felt  the  caress  of 
the  lover.  She  became  suddenly  so  keenly 
conscious  of  the  presence  of  the  count  behind 
her  that  she  glanced  back  as  if  in  fear.  Then 
she  reined  in  her  palfrey  so  that  her  damsel 
Fastrade,  who  rode  discreetly  in  the  rear,  might 
overtake  her. 

For  a  time  she  paced  forward  demurely,  feel- 
ing the  sidelong  glances  of  the  count  upon  her 
like  a  hand,  and  with  difficulty  restraining  the 
impulse  to  look  up  and  meet  his  burning  eyes. 
She  knew  well  that  he  watched  her  as  a  fowler 
might  watch  a  bird  that  is  fluttering  ever  nearer 
the  snare ;  and  every  moment  it  became  harder 
for  her  to  maintain  her  calm.  Suddenly  the 
impulse  seized  her  to  dash  wildly  forward  along 
the  woodland  way. 

"  Come,  Fastrade  !  "  she  called  imperatively. 

She  struck  her  palfrey  sharply,  and  onward 
she  flew,  her  damsel  following  as  well  as  she 
might  She  felt  as  if  she  were  escaping  from 
danger;  the  wood  seemed  full  of  beings  in 
league  with  Count  Stephen ;  she  even  seemed 
to  hear  wicked  whispers  in  her  ears,  so  clear 
that  she  could  have  sworn  that  they  were  pro- 


2O4  ALBRECHT. 

nounced  by  unseen  lips;  some  presence  tried 
to  hold  her  back,  and  only  the  need  of  escape 
made  her  forget  for  the  moment  to  be  afraid ; 
for  a  brief  time  a  wild  exhilaration  thrilled  her 
blood,  as  if  in  leaving  Count  Stephen  behind 
in  the  beech  wood  she  were  overcoming  the 
unseen  powers  of  evil  and  freeing  herself  from 
temptation. 

"  Ride,  Fastrade  !  "  she  called  backward  over 
her  shoulder,  conscious  in  the  brief  glance  be- 
hind that  the  plume  of  the  count  was  still  to  be 
seen  as  he  galloped  easily  after  them.  "  Ride  ! 
faster,  faster !  " 

The  falcon  fluttered  against  her  breast,  almost 
thrown  from  her  wrist  by  the  swiftness  of  her 
pace ;  her  heart  fluttered  beneath,  half  in  fear 
and  half  in  a  dangerously  delicious  confusion. 
The  very  air,  soft  and  perfumed,  languorous  and 
enervating,  seemed  to  melt  her  resolution  and 
to  help  to  overcome  her.  She  held  up  her  arm, 
and  shook  her  falcon  until  he  reeled  again, 
tossing  his  hooded  head  so  that  his  bell  rang 
right  merrily.  She  broke  into  wild  laughter, 
and  along  the  green  arches  of  the  wood  she 
heard  the  soft  voices  of  the  unseen  ones  laugh 
with  her ;  but  she  no  longer  felt  as  if  she  were 
combating  the  powers  about  her;  she  did  but 
jest  with  them  and  they  with  her.  She  trembled 
without  fearing  and  yet  without  knowing  why. 


HOW  THEY   RODE  TO   FLY  THE   FALCON.     205 

"  On,  Fastrade  !  "  she  cried  still.  "  Faster, 
faster !  " 

Suddenly,  as  she  looked  through  the  beech- 
tree  boles,  which  here  began  to  grow  more 
sparsely,  as  the  riders  approached  the  meadow 
where  they  were  to  throw  off  the  falcons,  Erna 
saw  two  figures.  Her  first  thought  was  that 
they  were  creatures  of  the  wood,  but  in  a 
moment  more  she  saw  that  it  was  her  husband 
riding  with  Herr  von  Zimmern.  The  sight 
sobered  her  instantly.  She  reined  in  her  pal- 
frey so  abruptly  that  Fastrade,  who  had  much 
ado  to  keep  up  with  her  mistress,  hardly  now 
esfaped  dashing  against  her.  Erna  could  not 
divine  why  Albrecht  should  be  here  when  she 
supposed  him  to  be  at  home.  Her  first  fearful 
thought,  which  the  guiltiness  of  her  mind  con- 
jured up,  was  that  he  had  come  to  play  the  spy 
upon  her  and  the  count;  but  the  openness  with 
which  he  allowed  himself  to  be  seen,  and  the 
grave  courtesy  with  which  he  saluted  her  as 
she  rode  by,  showed  her  that  this  was  not  the 
object  of  his  ride.  Albrecht  did  not  attempt  to 
join  her,  but  rode  into  the  wood  so  quickly  that 
neither  of  Erna's  companions  saw  him,  albeit 
had  Fastrade  been  less  occupied  with  her  pal- 
frey, thrown  into  confusion  by  the  suddenness 
with  which  he  had  been  checked,  she  might 
have  perceived  the  baron. 


206  ALBRECHT. 

Although  Erna  could  not  in  the  least  deter- 
mine why  Albrecht  was  there,  the  sight  of  him 
had  instantly  subdued  her  v/ild  mood.  She 
became  quiet  and  thoughtful,  and  for  all  the 
afternoon  while  they  flew  their  hawks,  she 
watched  almost  in  silence ;  so  that  the  count 
jested  upon  her  soberness. 

"  Didst  thou,  then,  see  a  ghost  in  the  wood?  " 
he  demanded;  "  or  was  it  that  thou  hast  ridden 
across  the  track  of  the  Wild  Huntsman  ?  Certain 
it  is  that  something  has  come  to  thee  since  thou 
fleddest  from  me  to  ride  on  with  thy  damsel. 
Thou  art  too  beautiful  to  be  trusted  in  the  forest 
without  a  knight  beside  thee;  sooner  or  later 
is  a  kobold  sure  to  capture  thee  if  thou  ridest 
thus  recklessly." 

Something  in  his  tone  angered  the  Lady  of 
Rittenberg.  Since  the  hour  when  she  had 
thoughtlessly  put  into  his  hand  the  scroll  of 
Ovid  with  its  pictures  of  such  wickedness  that 
a  modest  dame  might  by  no  means  give  them 
unto  the  gaze  of  another,  and  which  she  blushed 
to  see  when  she  examined  the  parchment  more 
closely  afterward,  it  had  seemed  to  Erna  that 
Count  Stephen  accosted  her  with  a  freedom 
which  he  had  not  carried  of  old.  She  turned 
from  him  now,  and  bent  her  regard  upon  the 
jess  of  her  falcon,  as  if  she  were  making  sure 
that  it  were  secure,  as  the  bird  rested  upon  her 


HOW  THEY   RODE  TO    FLY  THE   FALCON.    2O/ 

wrist    after    having    struck    down    a    brace    of 
ducks. 

"  Nay,"  the  count  continued,  laughing  and 
speaking  in  a  tone  which  was  of  itself  like  a 
caress,  "  and  thou  takest  to  being  angry  with 
me,  Mistress  Cousin,  I  am  indeed  undone.  It  is 
but  that  the  light  of  thy  beauty  hath  so  dazzled 
thy  slave  that  I  know  not  what  I  say,  and  so 
in  sooth  may  unwitting  offend  thee." 

"  Now  thou  art  minded  to  jest  and  to  mock 
me,"  Erna  returned,  instantly  relenting.  "  I  am 
not  angry.  Why  should  I  be?  Only  that  it  is 
perhaps  not  customary  for  the  guest  to  praise 
the  beauty  of  his  hostess  as  thou  hast  of  late 
fallen  into  the  fashion  of  doing." 

"  No,"  the  count  answered  gravely,  and  with 
a  look  into  her  eyes  that  she  could  not  meet 
unabashed ;  "  but  then  it  is  not  often  that  the 
guest  so  truly  and  so  heartily  loveth  his 
hostess." 

"  It  hath  a  savor  as  if  thou  wouldst  flout  at 
my  poor  face,"  she  continued,  making  her  coun- 
tenance as  if  she  heard  not  his  bold  words; 
"  and  surely  it  is  not  seemly  that  one  should 
mock  his  hostess." 

"  Of  a  truth,  fair  cousin,"  Count  Stephen  be- 
gan eagerly,  "I  — 

"  Hush  !  "  she  cried  softly,  her  manner  chang- 
ing. Then  aloud  she  said,  moving  nearer  to 


2O8  ALBRECHT. 

the  spot  where  stood  Fastrade :  "  Have  we  not 
a  brave  quarry  to-day?  I  have  never  seen  the 
hawks  do  better." 

The  day  was  well  worn  when  the  train  started 
to  return  to  the  castle,  and  in  the  beech  wood 
the  shadows  were  gathering  so  that  one  could 
see  but  dimly  there ;  and  it  might  be  that  when 
Erna  turned  her  head  as  she  rode  through  a 
leafy  covert  and  spoke  as  if  to  Fastrade,  she 
in  truth  believed  her  damsel  to  be  behind 
her,  albeit  the  ambling  of  the  maiden's  palfrey 
was  little  enough  like  to  the  trampling  of  the 
stallion  upon  which  Count  Stephen  rode,  so 
near  that  the  nose  of  his  steed  was  all  but 
touching  the  haunches  of  Erna's.  And  yet 
before  she  turned  the  countess  hesitated  and 
flushed  there  in  the  shadow,  and  her  voice  as 
she  spoke  the  name  of  her  damsel  had  in  it  a 
tremor  which  could  hardly  have  been  there 
had  she  in  all  verity  spoken  for  the  ears  of 
Fastrade. 

Count  Stephen  pressed  his  horse  forward  so 
that  their  steeds  were  abreast  in  the  narrow 
way. 

"  Nay,  it  is  I,"  he  said,  so  close  that  as  he 
leaned  toward  her  in  the  dusk  she  felt  his 
breath  hot  upon  her  cheek. 

She  reined  her  palfrey  away  from  him,  but 
it  seemed  to  her  as  if  something  unseen  thrust 


HOW  THEY  RODE  TO   FLY  THE  FALCON.    2OQ 

itself  in  her  way  so  that  she  could  not  escape. 
It  came  upon  her  that  the  wood-folk  were  in 
league  with  her  cousin,  and  her  terror  made 
her  turn  again  toward  Count  Stephen,  although 
she  shook  the  reins  of  her  palfrey  to  urge  him 
forward.  But  the  path  was  too  narrow  for  two 
horses  to  run  together  in  it,  and  Count  Stephen 
kept  his  steed  close  beside  her  own.  Her  falcon 
she  had  given  to  Rupert,  who  rode  far  behind, 
and  it  occurred  to  her  now  that  had  she  but 
kept  it  with  her  she  might  have  let  it  escape 
and  so  produced  an  excitement  by  means  of 
which  to  be  freed  from  her  entanglement. 

"Dearest!"  breathed  the  count  at  her  ear; 
and  the  passion  of  his  voice  stirred  her  pulses 
with  fiery  dread. 

She  felt  as  if  she  were  suffocating ;  she  longed 
to  flee,  and  yet  she  longed  also  to  stay.  Some 
resistless  fascination  seemed  to  overpower  her, 
and  without  speaking  she  rode  by  her  lover's 
side  for  the  space  of  a  falcon's  plunge  at  his 
quarry.  Then  Count  Stephen  half  threw  him- 
self from  his  horse  to  hers,  cast  his  strong  arm 
about  her,  and  kissed  her. 

The  touch  of  his  lips  broke  the  spell  which 
passion  and  opportunity  had  been  weaving 
about  her.  She  tore  herself  out  of  his  embrace 
with  a  vehemence  which  nearly  threw  him  from 
his  saddle,  and  struck  her  palfrey  with  all  her 
1 4 


210  ALBRECHT. 

force.  Before  he  recovered  his  seat  she  was 
fleeing  down  the  forest  path  with  all  her 
speed,  panting  and  weeping,  and  urging  her 
palfrey  with  voice  and  with  whip  toward  the 
castle. 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND    FREDERICK   TALKED.    2  1 1 


XXI 

HOW   ALBRECHT   AND    HERR   FREDERICK 
TALKED   IN   THE   WOOD. 

HARDLY  had  the  hawking-party  set  out 
that  day,  when  Herr  von  Zimmern,  with 
a  smile  of  cruel  craft  upon  his  face,  went  limp- 
ing in  search  of  Baron  Albrecht.  He  found 
him  with  Father  Christopher,  and  between  the 
two  lay  upon  the  oaken  table  a  scroll  of  parch- 
ment in  which  they  had  been  reading. 

"  Pardon  me  that  I  disturb  your  studies," 
Herr  Frederich  said,  with  the  air  of  one  who 
strives  to  seem  humble  in  his  demeanor;  "but 
I  would  that  the  Lord  Baron  come  forth  and 
ride  with  me.  I  have  that  to  show  which  it 
were  well  for  him  to  see." 

"What  is  it,  and  whither  should  we  ride?" 
the  knight  asked,  looking  up  calmly ;  while  Von 
Zimmern  noted  with  amusement  and  mingled 
anger  that  into  the  face  of  Father  Christopher 
there  stole  an  expression  of  dismay. 

"You  are  more  cautious  than  of  old,  when  it 
booted  not  whither  we  rode  so  be  it  that  our 
steeds  were  good  and  the  quarry  fair,"  the 
cripple  responded  with  a  discordant  laugh. 


212  ALBRECHT. 

"  For  to-day  trust  me  in  the  old  fashion,  and 
come  without  question." 

"  The  old  fashion  is  no  more  possible,"  Al- 
brecht  answered ;  "  but  nevertheless  I  will  go 
with  thee,  if  it  be  only  that  the  occasion  may 
serve  for  the  saying  of  certain  words  that  must 
sooner  or  later  be  spoken  between  us." 

Von  Zimmern  looked  at  the  baron  in  some 
surprise,  but  returned  no  other  answer  than  a 
profound  bow  which  seemed  mocking  in  its  ex- 
cessive deference.  He  waited  a  moment  while 
the  other  laid  aside  the  parchment  and  prepared 
to  accompany  him,  the  priest  all  the  while  look- 
ing as  if  he  had  it  in  his  desire  to  prevent  this 
sally  from  the  castle  did  he  but  know  how  to 
accomplish  his  wish.  Herr  von  Zimmern  found 
it  not  easy  to  accustom  himself  to  this  new  Al- 
brecht  who  had  been  developed  out  of  the 
kobold  lad  whom  he  had  trained  and  shaped  at 
his  will,  and  of  whose  simple  wits  it  had  been  so 
easy  to  get  the  better  by  a  little  human  guile. 
He  had  for  long  years  foreseen  the  time  when 
Albrecht  should  gain  a  human  soul,  and  for  this 
he  had  schemed ;  but  now  that  the  thing  was 
accomplished  he  was  confused  by  the  result. 
Albrecht  with  a  soul  was  not  the  being  that 
Herr  Frederich  had  expected  him  to  be,  and 
the  fact  continually  filled  the  cripple  with  a 
baffled  sense  of  confusion. 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND  FREDERICH  TALKED.   213 

Together  Albrecht  and  his  companion  got  to 
horse,  and  without  further  speech  they  rode 
down  the  hill  and  into  the  shadow  of  the  forest. 
The  instant  the  shadow  of  the  pines  fell  upon 
him  Albrecht  knew  that  there  were  evil  in- 
fluences abroad  that  day.  He  caught  a  glimpse 
among  the  tree  boles  of  the  shadowy  form  of  a 
kobold,  and  he  heard  in  the  air  the  whispers  of 
beings  to  which  his  sight  was  growing  dim  as 
he  became  more  human.  He  looked  at  his 
companion  questioningly,  as  if  he  suspected  the 
truth ;  but  Herr  Frederich  held  his  face  under 
control,  and  did  not  betray  the  feverish  glee 
which  burned  within  him.  Herr  Frederich  was 
secretly  full  of  malicious  triumph.  He  had 
gathered  from  the  burning  looks  of  Count 
Stephen  when  that  morning  the  cripple  had 
brought  tidings  of  the  quarry  to  be  had  in  the 
meadow  and  from  the  ambiguous  speech  of  the 
lord  of  Schaffhausen,  that  to-day  was  the  lover 
determined  to  bring  his  wooing  to  a  climax; 
and  he  had  promise  that  opportunity  should 
not  be  lacking,  since  the  kobolds  of  the  forest, 
urged  on  by  Von  Zimmern  and  angry  at  the 
desertion  of  their  brotherhood  by  Albrecht,  had 
given  pledge  to  bring  Erna  and  her  lover  to- 
gether alone  in  the  wood. 

Herr  Frederich  had  brought  Albrecht  forth 
from  the  castle  to  follow  on  the  track  of  the 


214  ALBRECHT. 

hunters,  feeling  sure  that  the  wood-folk  would 
contrive  opportunity,  and  that  Count  Stephen 
would  not  be  loath  or  slow  to  avail  himself  of 
it  to  press  his  passion ;  and  it  was  with  the 
surety  of  being  able  to  show  to  Albrecht  his 
wife  listening  to  the  vows  of  another,  perhaps 
even  clasped  in  her  lover's  arms,  that  the  mali- 
cious cripple  led  the  way  through  the  forest. 

So  still  in  silence  they  rode,  until  they  did  in 
truth  come  upon  the  hawking-party,  as  hath 
been  told.  When  Herr  Frederich  beheld  how 
the  damsel  Fastrade  rode  in  advance  with  her 
mistress  while  the  Count  followed,  as  it  at  that 
moment  happened,  he  muttered  under  his 
breath  a  curse  bitter  and  deep. 

"  Now  they  have  beheld  us !  "  he  exclaimed 
in  vexation ;  and  involuntarily  he  turned  his 
horse  toward  the  deeper  shades  behind  the  spot 
where  they  rode. 

Albrecht  followed  the  other  as  he  wheeled, 
and  rode  after  until  they  were  out  of  sight  of 
the  hawking-party.  Then  he  drew  rein. 

"  Hold  thee  still  there  !  "  he  commanded. 

Herr  Frederich,  with  a  sudden  thrill  of  rage 
and  no  less  of  terror,  checked  his  horse,  feel- 
ing that  his  quarry  had  escaped  him.  He  sat 
glaring  at  the  baron  with  eyes  from  which 
blazed  the  hate  he  would  no  longer  take  the 
trouble  to  conceal. 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND  FREDERICK  TALKED.     2  1 5 

"  Thinkest  thou,"  Albrecht  said  in  a  voice  so 
perfectly  calm  and  self-controlled  that  it  stung 
his  hearer  like  the  lash  of  a  whip,  "  that  I  am 
so  dull  as  not  to  understand  that  thou  hast 
brought  me  forth  into  the  forest  to  play  the 
spy?" 

"  You  were  brought  here,"  Herr  Frederich 
answered  furiously,  "  to  see  how  your  lady  and 
her  lover  —  " 

No  more  could  he  say,  for  Albrecht  with  a 
sharp  thrust  of  the  spurs  made  his  horse  leap 
forward,  and  caught  the  other  by  the  throat. 
For  an  instant,  as  the  two  confronted  each 
other  with  blazing  eyes,  it  seemed  that  the 
death-hour  of  the  cripple  had  surely  come. 
Then  the  strong  fingers  of  Albrecht  loosened 
their  hold,  an  expression  of  regret  softened  the 
splendid  rage  in  his  face,  and  Herr  Frederich 
wrenched  himself  free  from  the  grasp  that  was 
strangling  him. 

Albrecht  reined  his  horse  backward. 

"  Beware  that  thou  dost  not  provoke  me  too 
far,"  he  said.  "  I  was  prepared  for  the  foul 
thing  that  thou  wast  minded  to  say,  but  1  will 
not  listen  to  the  name  of  my  lady  from  thy  lips. 
Dost  thou  think,  forsooth,  that  I  am  so  besotted 
that  I  have  not  seen  that  thou  wast  minded  to 
play  a  part  too  foul  for  one  to  name  it,  and  to 
bring  about  my  dishonor  in  mine  own  house 


2l6  ALBRECHT. 

to  the  intent  that  I  should  be  —  Nay,  to  what 
intent  thou  best  knovvest.  I  had  fortified  myself 
to  the  end  that  to-day  for  the  last  time  I  should 
bear  with  thee  patiently,  but  if  thou  takest  the 
name  of  my  wife  upon  thy  lips,  I  will  not  an- 
swer for  my  forbearance." 

Herr  Frederich,  panting  and  dishevelled, 
leaned  upon  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  and  re- 
garded his  companion  with  looks  of  burning 
ferocity. 

"  I  did  but  try,"  he  sneered,  "  to  warn  you  in 
time,  that  you  might  save  yourself  from  — " 

The  threatening  look  which  gathered  blackly 
upon  the  bro^v  of  Albrecht  warned  him  to  be 
more  guarded  in  his  speech,  and  he  broke  off 
abruptly,  leaving  the  rest  unspoken. 

"  The  faithful  service  of  the  best  part  of  my 
life,"  he  went  on,  endeavoring  to  cover  his  an- 
ger with  a  show  of  wounded  zeal  and  faithful 
affection,  "  counts  for  nothing  with  you,  and  it 
is  not  strange  that  this  endeavor  to  serve  you 
should  bring  to  me  only  abuse.  It  was  to  do 
you  a  service  that  I  adventured  the  rage  of 
Count  von  Rittenberg,  and  —  " 

Albrecht  put  up  his  hand  with  a  gesture 
which  once  more  cut  the  speaker  short. 

"  Why  is  it,"  he  asked',  "  that  thou  hast  gone 
about  to  do  me  harm?  What  cause  hast  thou 
to  hate  me?  If  I  was  not  over-thoughtful  of 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND  FREDERICK  TALKED.   2  I/ 

thee  in  the  old  days,  I  was  at  least  never  cruel, 
and  I  took  care  that  thou  shouldst  fare  as  well 
as  might  be.  Thou  wert  set  next  to  myself, 
and  never  did  I  let  that  one  of  those  under  my 
hand  should  so  much  as  speak  to  thee  lightly." 

Herr  Frederich  threw  the  reins  down  upon 
the  neck  of  his  steed,  and  with  folded  arms  he 
sat  confronting  Albrecht.  The  supreme  hour 
of  his  life  had  come.  Now  at  last  would  he 
pour  forth  all  the  wrath  that  for  long  years  had 
been  festering  in  his  soul.  There  was  not  more 
a  need  of  prudence,  of  concealment,  of  a  cloak 
with  which  to  hide  the  intents  of  his  heart.  He 
labored  only  how  to  frame  his  speech  so  that  it 
should  sting  and  burn  Albrecht  to  the  very  soul, 
like  the  lightning  shafts,  or  the  poisoned  spear 
of  the  Wild  Huntsman  that  leaves  an  incurable 
wound  at  its  lightest  touch.  He  glanced  about 
with  an  instinctive,  cowardly  desire  to  see 
whither  he  could  flee  if  the  other's  rage  should 
overleap  all  bounds,  and  he  muttered  a  spell  to 
summon  the  sprites  of  the  wood. 

"  Ah,  thou  art,  then,  in  league  with  the  folk 
of  the  forest?"  Albrecht  said,  hearing  him. 
"  Couldst  thou  not  trust  thine  own  powers  for 
evil,  that  thou  hast  called  upon  them  to  help 
thee?" 

The  cripple  gave  no  heed  to  the  interruption. 
He  was  lost  in  the  fierceness  of  his  feelings. 


2l8  ALBRECHT. 

He  was  determined  that  of  the  bitter  joy  of  this 
moment  he  would  lose  nothing  through  craven 
fear.  He  cast  all  prudence  to  the  wind. 

"  It  is  true,"  he  began,  in  a  tone  which  was  at 
first  low,  but  which  increased  as  he  went  on, 
and  the  fierceness  of  his  anger  burst  out  more 
and  more,  as  a  fire  that  is  opened  to  the  wind 
blazes  higher  and  higher,  "  that  you  had  me 
treated  well  at  the  hands  of  the  wild  crew  at 
Neiderwasser,  since,  forsooth,  I  was  too  valuable 
a  thing  to  be  lightly  handled.  If  your  under- 
lings were  forced  to  treat  me  with  respect,  were 
they  ever  allowed  to  forget  that  I  was  an  under- 
ling also ;  I,  who  had  been  born  a  man  and  a 
freeholder?  Oh,  the  fool  of  a  kobold,  that 
thinks  himself  able  to  understand  men  because, 
forsooth,  he  hath  .stolen  a  soul  through  his  wife  ! 
Why  do  I  hate  you?  You  who  kept  me  in 
thralldom  among  creatures  no  better  than  the 
wild  beasts  save  that  they  speak  and  go  up- 
right! You,  whose  father  stole  me  from  free- 
dom, from  home,  from  the  wife  that  belonged 
to  me  only,  and  from  the  children  that  were 
helpless  without  me!  Why  do  I  hate  you? 
God's  wounds,  I  had  much  cause  to  love  you  !  " 

His  bitter  laughter  rang  through  the  forest. 
Albrecht  shuddered,  but  he  drew  nearer  to  the 
cripple,  and  Herr  Frederich  saw  in  his  face  an 
expression  of  compassion.  The  fierceness  of 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND  FREDERICK  TALKED.      219 

Von  Zimmern's  rage  was  increased  twofold  that 
he  could  excite  in  the  knight  only  pity  and  not 
the  anger  which  he  longed  to  provoke. 

"  Fool  of  a  kobold  !  "  he  cried  again,  his  voice 
rising  ever  higher  till  the  hollows  of  the  wood 
rang  with  it ;  "  do  you  know  why  I  taught  you 
to  long  for  a  human  soul,  and  why  I  spared  no 
pains  to  fit  you  for  the  part  you  had  to  play  to 
gain  one,  so  that  you  should  by  no  means  fail? 
It  was  because  till  you  had  a  soul  my  vengeance 
could  have  no  hold  upon  you  !  It  was  that  I 
was  not  content  to  hurt  you  for  the  short  life 
which  would  have  been  yours  in  the  forest;  I 
would  bring  on  you  a  punishment  that  should 
be  eternal !  When  you  were  a  lad  I  could 
scarcely  keep  my  hands  from  tearing  and 
maiming  you,  and  I  should  have  laughed  had 
your  accursed  kobold  father  rent  me  limb  from 
limb  for  doing  it;  but  I  waited  for  a  better  ven- 
geance !  The  only  thing  that  is  wanting  to  my 
content  now  is  that  your  father  cannot  know 
how 'I  have  paid  my  debt  to  his  son." 

He  seemed  to  have  gone  mad,  and  Albrecht 
shuddered  and  crossed  himself  at  the  sight  of 
fury  so  demoniacal.  The  cripple  shivered  and 
trembled  with  excitement;  the  tears  gathered 
in  his  eyes,  and  the  foam  specked  his  lips.  The 
knight's  own  eyes  were  dim,  as  he  leaned  for- 
ward and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  other's  arm. 


220  ALBRECHT. 

"  I  have  indeed  much  for  which  to  ask  thy 
forgiveness,"  Albrecht  said  ;  "  but  I  was,  as  thou 
hast  said,  only  a  kobold,  and  what  could  I  know 
better  than  the  rest  of  my  race,  save  what  thou 
didst  teach  me?  Meseemeth  that  if  thou  hadst 
but  cumbered  somewhat  to  teach  me  mercy  in 
my  callow  youth,  all  soulless  as  I  was  I  might 
perchance  have  learned  somewhat  of  it." 

"  Oh,  without  doubt !  "  retorted  Von  Zimmern 
scornfully,  as  he  shook  off  the  hand  which  lay 
pleadingly  upon  his  arm  ;  "  but  that  was  reason 
enough  why  I  should  not  teach.  I  was  willing 
to  suffer  if  thereby  I  could  the  better  compass 
my  revenge  in  the  end." 

"  And  yet,"  interposed  Albrecht,  inquiringly, 
"  when  my  marriage  was  about  to  take  place, 
thou  didst  all  but  prevent  it  when  thou  gavest 
to  the  countess  a  ring  by  which  she  might 
know  kobolds  from  men?" 

"  Yea,"  Herr  Frederich  replied,  grinding  his 
teeth ;  "  for  a  moment  the  thought  of  your 
/present  bliss  was  too  much  for  me.  I  saw  you 
look  on  your  bride  with  longing  and  delight, 
and  I  thought  of  mine  from  whom  I  had  been 
stolen.  To  see  you  so  blest  was  a  trial  too 
great  for  even  my  patience ;  and  for  a  mo- 
ment I  was  so  weak  that  had  you  not  inter- 
fered, I  had  spoiled  all,  and  cheated  myself  of 
the  vengeance  wrought  out  by  all  those  years 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND  FREDERICK  TALKED.      221 

of  waiting  and  suffering.  I  thank  you  for 
that !  " 

There  was  silence  in  the  wood  for  a  moment 
while  the  two  confronted  each  other  with  pierc- 
ing eyes.  Overhead  the  wind  soughed  in  the 
pine  tops,  and  to  the  mind  of  Von  Zimmern  the 
sound  brought  the  memory  of  the  many  long, 
weary  days  and  nights  he  had  listened  to  this 
wail  in  the  treetops  of  the  Neiderwasser  valley. 
A  new  frown  of  hate  came  over  his  black  face. 

"  Year  after  year,"  he  burst  out,  "  I  pined  in 
that  cursed  slavery,  and  longed  and  longed  for 
those  I  had  left  behind;  and  you  offered  me 
nixies,  and  promised  that  I  should  be  free  to 
return  to  my  own  when  I  had  married  you  to  a 
mortal  wife." 

"  And  that  promise  was  kept,"  Albrecht 
responded. 

"  Kept !  "  the  other  echoed  with  fierce  scorn. 
"  You  kept  it  when  all  that  I  loved  was  gone. 
You  set  me  free  to  seek  a  row  of  graves;  to 
carry  my  miserable,  broken  body  about  the 
world  alone.  God's  blood  !  "  he  went  on,  dash- 
ing the  spurs  into  the  bleeding  flanks  of  his 
steed  and  still  reining  the  animal  back  with  a 
strong  hand ;  "  at  the  grave  of  my  wife  I  took 
new  oaths  of  vengeance,  and  I  hastened  back  to 
keep  them.  It  was  not  hard  !  The  folk  of  the 
wood  were  eager  to  help  me  by  bringing  the 


222  ALBRECHT. 

count  and  the  lady  alone  together  in  the  forest, 
and  he  already  had  the  work  of  winning  —  " 

"  Silence !  "  broke  in  Albrecht,  in  a  voice  of 
thunder. 

The  wild  excitement  of  Herr  Frederich  was 
infecting  him  also,  despite  all  his  efforts  at  self- 
control.  His  cheeks  were  flushed,  and  he 
breathed  deeply  and  pantingly  between  his 
teeth.  The  cripple  was  not  slow  to  perceive 
these  signs  of  growing  passion,  and  he  fanned 
the  flame  with  new  taunts  and  deeper  re- 
proaches. 

"  Fool  of  a  kobold  !  "  he  cried  out  yet  again; 
"  to  think  you  could  play  with  a  soul  and  be 
safe !  Was  it  then  like  a  boar-spear  with  which 
your  hand  could  have  its  own  will?  Oh,  the 
wise  wood- creature  !  " 

He  broke  into  shrill  laughter  and  bitter,  till 
all  the  forest  resounded ;  and  among  the  dark 
recesses  of  the  pines  it  seemed  that  unseen  lips 
joined  in  the  evil  peal  of  wicked  scorn  and 
merriment. 

"  Now,"  he  cried,  and  in  his  voice  was  a  new 
ring  of  triumph,  "  our  kobold  hath  ruined  not 
alone  his  own  soul,  lightly  gotten  and  quickly 
lost,  but  hers  which  could  by  no  means  be 
satisfied  with  such  a  brutish,  half-human  thing 
as  her  husband.  It  is  not  a  marvel  that  she 
must  needs  turn  toward  a  human  lover  after  —  " 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND  FREDERICK  TALKED.   223 

The  knight  sprang  upon  him  with  a  face  dis- 
torted with  rage  and  jealousy,  and  caught  the 
cripple  by  the  throat.  He  dragged  him  from 
the  saddle,  and  Herr  Frederich  was  as  helpless 
in  the  grasp  of  those  powerful  hands  as  if  he 
were  in  the  clutch  of  a  lion.  Albrecht  dashed 
him  to  the  earth.  His  head  was  grazed  by  a 
stone,  and  for  an  instant  everything  swam  before 
his  eyes.  The  thick-growing  ferns  closed  over 
him  like  the  waves  of  the  sea,  and  then  they 
were  parted  by  the  face  of  Albrecht,  who 
stooped  toward  him. 

"  Thou  art  a  craven  and  a  liar !  "  Albrecht 
hissed  between  his  set  teeth. 

Then  again  with  strong  hands  he  seized  Herr 
Frederich,  and  lifted  him  out  of  the  bracken  as 
if  to  dash  him  again  to  earth. 

With  a  moan  and  a  mighty  effort  to  speak, 
the  cripple,  swinging  in  air,  flung  at  the  knight 
one  last  bitter  taunt. 

"  It  is  bravely  done,"  he  cried,  "  to  kill  the 
man  your  father  maimed  !  " 

The  clutch  of  Albrecht  relaxed  instantly.  He 
lowered  the  other  until  he  could  lean  against 
his  horse,  and  then  stood  confronted  to  him 
with  a  face  which  kept  Von  Zimmern  silent. 

"  Thou  art  right,"  he  said.  "  God  knoweth 
that  I  and  mine  have  done  thee  evil  enough  al- 
ready. I  have  need  to  ask  thy  forgiveness ; 


224  ALBRECHT. 

and  I  would  to  God  that  there  were  reparation 
which  man  might  compass,  so  be  it  that  thus  I 
could  do  by  thee  that  which  would  undo  what 
my  father  hath  done  unto  thee.  Only,  since 
that  may  not  be,  I  warn  thee  that  thou  come  not 
in  my  sight  again.  I  spare  thy  life  when  thou 
hast  said  words  for  which  death  were  the  only 
fitting  meed ;  but  I  pledge  not  myself  if  I  see 
thee  again." 

And  as  if  he  might  not  trust  himself  to  say 
aught  further,  Albrecht  vaulted  into  the  saddle 
and  rode  swiftly  away  through  the  wood. 


HOW  ALBRECHT   RODE   HOME.  225 


XXII 
HOW   ALBRECHT   RODE   HOME. 

MIGHTY  was  the  struggle  in  the  mind  of 
Albrecht  as  he  rode  swiftly  through  the 
forest  when  he  had  left  Herr  Frederich  in  the 
wood.  His  good  steed  of  his  own  instinct  took 
the  way  back  toward  the  castle,  and  strained 
every  sinew  that  he  might  the  sooner  come 
thither,  for  that  his  master  sharply  spurred  him 
on.  Albrecht  had  only  the  thought  that  it 
behooved  him  to  put  all  the  distance  he  might 
compass  between  his  angry  heart  and  the  temp- 
tation from  which  he  fled,  and  he  heeded  not 
whither  he  rode.  The  falling  leaves  of  the 
beech  trees,  yellow  as  topaz,  rustled  downward 
in  bright  showers  as  he  sped ;  the  pitchy  cones 
of  the  pines,  glistening  with  unctuous  drops,  fell 
now  and  then  with  a  dull  thud  upon  the  soft 
carpet  of  brown  needles  beneath  his  horse's 
feet;  the  squirrels  chattered  indignantly  at  his 
intrusion  upon  their  wild  and  quiet  domain; 
and  now  and  then  some  wood-bird  flew  startled 
15 


226  ALBRECHT. 

from  the  thicket,  oftentimes  so  close  as  almost 
to  touch  him. 

The  cheeks  of  the  knight  burned  with  a 
fever  which  the  wind  of  the  autumn  afternoon, 
cool  though  it  was  and  loaded  with  refreshing 
balsamic  scents,  could  not  allay.  His  heart 
beat  hotly  with  rage  and  love  and  hatred  and 
jealousy,  until  its  fierce  throbbing  seemed  well- 
nigh  to  choke  him.  Through  a  rift  in  the  tree's 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  towers  of  Kitten^ 
berg;  and  he  recalled  the  sight  of  them  which 
he  had  when  he  first  came  hither,  and  how 
Herr  Frederich  had  pointed  them  out  to  him, 
saying  with  his  smile  which  now  Albrecht  so 
loathed : 

"  Now  I  will  ride  homeward,  and  await  tidings 
of  the  speeding  of  your  wooing.  Yonder  is  the 
castle,  and  there  shall  you  find  both  bride  and 
soul !  " 

The  memory  surged  over  the  mind  of  Al- 
brecht like  a  bitter  wave  of  the  northern  sea, 
black  and  stinging  with  its  icy  cold.  He  struck 
his  clenched  hand  against  his  breast,  and  a 
groan  escaped  from  his  lips. 

"  It  were  better  never  to  have  had  a  soul !  " 
he  murmured. 

A  hollow  laugh  from  unseen  lips  answered 
him.  He  looked  around,  suddenly  checking  his 
horse  with  a  wrench  of  the  bridle  which  wrell- 


HOW   ALBRECHT   RODE   HOME.  22/ 

nigh  threw  the  good  steed  upon  its  haunches. 
He  was  silent  an  instant,  as  if  he  waited  for 
some  one  to  call  out  in  mockery.  There  was 
no  sound  save  the  panting  of  his  steed,  the 
murmur  of  the  soft  wind  in  the  treetops,  and 
the  distant  hoarse  cry  of  a  heron  scared  by  the 
fowler  and  fleeing  toward  the  deeper  recesses 
of  the  forest. 

•  Albrecht  put  his  hand  upon  his  forehead  like 
a  man  who  awakens. 

"I  know  ye,  kobold  crew !  "  he  cried.  "  Ye 
shall  not  conquer.  I  defy  ye,  for  I  have  a 
soul." 

Then  again  he  struck  the  spurs  into  the 
horse's  flanks  and  flew  onward  toward  Ritten- 
berg.  The  dread  that  Erna  might  indeed  be 
lost  forever  beset  him  like  a  flame,  and  he  did 
not  pause  even  on  the  steep  below  the  castle 
gate.  As  if  urged  on  by  the  furies  he  flew  up 
the  hill,  and  dashed  into  the  courtyard  spattered 
with  foam  from  his  horse's  bridle. 

He  threw  his  rein  to  a  servitor,  and  hastened 
to  his  chamber.  He  dashed  his  cap,  its  heron- 
plume  torn  and  ragged  from  his  wild  ride 
through  the  wood,  upon  the  rush-strewn  floor, 
and  with  great  strides  he  began  to  pace  to  and 
fro.  He  was  confused  by  the  emotions  with 
which  he  struggled.  Never  in  the  months  since 
he  became  a  man  had  so  fierce  a  rush  of  con- 


228  ALBRECHT. 

tending  passions  swept  through  his  mind,  and 
he  was  dizzied  by  their  force.  Below  in  the 
courtyard  he  heard  light  laughter,  and  a  snatch 
of  song  which  one  of  his  rnen-at-arms  had 
taught  some  serving-wench ;  and  the  sounds 
carried  him  back  to  the  wild,  free  life  of  the 
forest.  For  a  moment  it  seemed  to  him  that 
he  would  gladly  give  up  all  that  he  had  won 
could  he  but  be  once  more  the  gay,  soulless 
Albrecht  who  had  come  to  Rittenberg;  so 
strong  was  the  rush  of  the  old  memory,  the 
desire  for  the  old  lawless,  jocund  kobold  life, 
that  he  was  ready  to  curse  the  day  that  brought 
him  to  the  castle  and  gave  him  a  human  bride. 
Yet  the  thought  of  Erna  and  the  passionate 
love  for  her  which  filled  his  heart  were  too 
strong  to  be  overcome,  even  by  the  swelling 
disquiet  of  his  soul.  He  could  not  yet  think 
first  of  the  high  spiritual  blessings  which  the 
gift  of  a  soul  made  possible  to  him,  since  ever 
the  image  of  his  bride  rose  before  his  mind  as 
the  chief  desire  of  his  life. 

So  long  did  Albrecht  wrestle  with  the  temp- 
tations which  raged  within  him  like  ravening 
wolves,  that  the  dusk  began  to  rise  from  the 
forest  to  the  height  where  the  castle  stood,  as 
a  night-mist  rises  from  beneath.  He  thought 
of  the  wood-creatures  who  had  mocked  at  his 
pain,  and  full  well  did  he  know  how  fain  were 


HOW  ALBRECHT  RODE  HOME.  22Q 

they  to  do  his  bidding  did  he  charge  them  to 
waylay  Count  Stephen  in  the  forest  and  do  him 
harm.  Were  it  not  madness  to  let  all  the  in- 
stincts of  his  whole  life  go  because  of  the 
fetters  which  were  laid  upon  him  by  this  thing 
which  was  so  wondrously  within  him,  and 
which  had  changed  him  from  the  most  blithe 
and  most  bold  of  all  the  kobolds  of  the  forest 
to  the  tame  thing  that  dared  not  avenge  himself 
upon  the  knight  who  would  steal  from  him  the 
love  of  his  wife?  The  rushes  were  crushed  and 
ground  into  dust  beneath  his  heel  as  he  strode 
to  and  fro,  and  the  great  drops  stood  upon  his 
forehead. 

Suddenly  in  the  gathering  dusk  he  stood  still, 
as  does  a  knight  who  turns  at  last  upon  his 
enemies  and  stands  at  bay,  bidding  them  de- 
fiance. All  the  might  of  his  soul  did  he  call 
up  to  aid  him  in  the  conflict  with  the  passions 
and  temptations  which  beset  him.  There  came 
into  his  splendid  face  a  look  of  boldness,  of 
confidence,  yet  too  of  horror,  as  of  one  who  at 
last  sees  his  foes  for  what  they  in  truth  are.  A 
moment  he  stood  motionless;  then  with  firm 
step  and  resolute  mien  he  went  down  the  long 
corridor,  which  echoed  to  his  tread,  and  de- 
scended the  private  stairway  which  led  to  the 
castle  chapel.  There  before  the  altar  he  bowed 
himself  in  prayer. 


230  ALBRECHT. 

Half  an  hour  later,  as  Albrecht,  calm  and  firm 
once  more,  was  returning  to  his  chamber,  he 
encountered  Erna  in  the  corridor.  She  had 
been  to  his  chamber  to  seek  him,  on  her  return 
from  the  hunt.  The  attendants  had  stared 
open-mouthed  when  she  rode  into  the  court- 
yard unattended,  but  she  had  given  them  no 
heed.  She  longed  to  fling  herself  into  the  arms 
of  her  husband,  that  he  might  shield  her  from 
the  danger  and  the  temptation  which  lay  about 
her ;  but  when  she  found  his  chamber  vacant, 
suddenly  she  recalled  seeing  Albrecht  in  the 
forest,  riding  with  Herr  von  Zimmern  like  an 
evil  spirit  behind  him,  and  the  thought  brought 
with  it  a  great  fear  of  what  he  might  have  seen. 
At  that  moment  she  heard  his  step  in  the  corri- 
dor approaching  her.  Her  first  impulse  was  to 
hide  like  a  guilty  thing ;  then  she  remembered 
that  she  was  not  guilty.  She  saw  Albrecht 
standing  on  the  threshold  as  if  he  were  an  angel 
of  light.  His  splendid  strength  seemed  to  her 
that  of  a  god.  She  ran  to  him  and  flung  herself, 
sobbing  wildly,  into  his  arms. 

It  had  seemed  to  Albrecht  in  the  cool  and 
holy  quiet  of  the  chapel,  that  he  had  conquered 
passion  and  come  to  desire  spiritual  good  even 
above  the  love  of  this  beautiful  woman  who 
now  flung  herself  into  his  embrace,  weeping  so 
sore;  but  now  that  he  held  her  fast  he  thought 


HOW   ALBRECHT   RODE   HOME.  23! 

again  of  the  folk  in  the  wood,  and  how  speedily 
they  would  rid  him  of  his  rival  did  he  but  bid 
them.  Even  were  they  in  league  with  Herr 
Frederich,  as  well  might  be,  they  would  obey 
him  and  do  his  will.  He  strained  Erna  to  his 
bosom  in  a  strong  and  jealous  clasp ;  then,  as 
a  wave  returns  that  has  swept  down  the  sea- 
beach,  came  again  his  will  to  conquer  evil  and 
to  beat  down  this  temptation.  When  in  a  mo- 
ment he  spoke  there  was  in  his  voice  no  trace 
of  the  feelings  which  stormed  within  him. 

"What  hath  affrighted  thee,  sweetheart?" 
he  said,  kissing  her  fondly. 

She  had  clung  to  him,  hiding  her  face,  and 
feeling  that  his  strong  arms  could  protect  her 
from  the  world ;  that  now  was  all  harm  put 
away  and  all  evil  trodden  down.  Then  when 
he  spoke,  it  seemed  to  her,  all  unwrought  and 
excited  as  she  was,  that  his  voice,  though 
soothing  and  compassionate,  was  that  of  one 
who  is  no  more  cumbered  by  troubles  such  as 
hers.  He  was  to  her  like  one  who  is  removed 
from  passion,  and  the  turmoil  of  a  strife  such 
as  that  which  tossed  her  spirit,  by  the  width  of 
half  the  wide  sky.  He  was  so  calm,  so  kind ; 
he  soothed  her  like  a  tired  child  when,  forsooth, 
her  soul  hungered  and  thirsted  to  be  comforted 
with  the  apples  and  flagons  of  love.  She  knew 
not  for  what  she  yearned,  but  she  did  not  find 


232  ALBRECHT. 

it  in  his  embrace,  albeit  he  was  full  tender  and 
fond. 

Albrecht  saw  that  she  strove  with  herself  that 
she  might  recover  her  calmness.  She  freed 
herself  from  his  embrace,  and  stood  wiping 
her  tears,  and  calming  herself  in  woman's 
wise. 

"  It  is  only  that  thou  hast  wed  a  foolish  and 
timorous  wife,"  she  answered  him ;  "  I  lost  the 
hunt  and  rode  home  alone.  Methought  I 
heard  voices  in  the  forest,  and  it  hath  unnerved 
me." 

Albrecht  changed  color.  What  peril  from 
the  wood-folk  might  not  Erna  have  escaped ! 
He  started  forward  to  take  her  again  in  his 
arms,  but  she  turned  away  with  a  smile. 

"  Belike  it  was  nothing  but  my  own  wild 
fancy,"  she  said.  "  Indeed,  now  that  once 
again  I  am  safe  at  Rittenberg  I  know  not  if  I 
heard  aught.  I  cannot  have  left  the  hunt  more 
than  half  an  hour  agone.  I  did  but  turn  aside 
in  the  beech  wood  near  the  ford  to  follow 
a  bird-cry  for  a  little,  and  I  lost  my  way 
thereby." 

She  cast  down  her  eyes,  for  in  truth  as  she 
thus  put  by  his  question  with  a  feigned  excuse 
she  could  not  meet  his  gaze ;  and  Albrecht,  re- 
membering what  had  been  said  to  him  in  the 
forest  concerning  the  estrangement  of  her  affec- 


HOW  ALBRECHT  RODE   HOME.  233 

tions,  thrilled  with  a  keen  pang.  She  left  him, 
and  passed  down  the  corridor  toward  her 
chamber;  and  he  stood  and  watched  her  like 
one  who  seeth  his  dearest  hope  flee  away  be- 
fore his  face. 


234  ALBRECHT. 


XXIII 
HOW   ERNA  SUFFERED. 

IT  had  been  after  a  wild  ride  homeward  that 
Erna  met  Albrecht  and  turned  away  from 
him.  When  she  dashed  away  from  Count 
Stephen  in  the  forest  the  tears  had  gathered  so 
thickly  in  her  eyes  that  she  was  perforce  minded 
to  trust  to  the  instincts  of  her  palfrey  rather 
than  to  her  own  guidance  to  bring  her  home  to 
Rittenberg.  Perchance  they  were  tears  of  re- 
morse, of  rage,  of  indignation,  and  perhaps  not 
a  little  of  excitement.  Her  horse  made  his  way 
bravely  along  the  bridle-path,  now  brushing  the 
thickly  set  ferns  and  brambles,  now  skirting 
close  to  the  banks  of  the  frothy  river,  and  anon 
hurrying  through  the  gathering  shadows  of  the 
black  pine- wood;  and  still  it  seemed  to  Erna 
as  if  she  were  fleeing  from  a  pursuer  who  might 
at  any  moment  rush  upon  her.  She  felt  that 
her  only  safety  lay  in  her  husband's  arms,  and 
with  the  thought  came  a  bitter  pang  in  the 
sense  of  the  wrong  she  had  done  Albrecht  in 


HOW   ERNA   SUFFERED.  235 

listening  so  long  to  the  whispered  love-making 
of  her  cousin. 

And  it  befell  Erna,  as  she  rode  home  thus 
swiftly  through  the  forest,  to  come  in  mind  to 
a  burning  sense  of  the  change  which  had  be- 
fallen her  since  she  had  bidden  Count  Stephen 
farewell  when  he  set  out  for  Strasburg.  She 
seemed  to  look  back  from  the  depths  to  that 
height  of  purity  and  virtue  where  she  then 
stood,  and  it  was  with  the  pricking  of  despair 
most  profound  that  she  felt  how  great  was  the 
distance  between  what  she  was  and  what  she  had 
been.  A  sob  of  passion  and  of  terror  rose  in 
her  throat  as  she  thought  of  her  husband,  and 
for  perhaps  the  first  time  since  their  marriage 
she  appreciated  how  he  had  risen  from  what  he 
had  been.  She  did  not  realize  that  although 
she  had  been  sinking,  it  was  from  her  that  Al- 
brecht  had  gained  his  inspiration,  and  that  it 
was  he  who  had  awakened  in  her  those  desires 
and  instincts  which  had  been  her  temptation. 
She  only  felt  degraded  and  unworthy  to  stand 
before  him,  but  wirh  all  the  love  of  her  heart 
she  longed  to  fall  at  his  feet  and  implore  his 
forgiveness. 

And  yet  how  could  she  confess  to  him  how 
she  had  fallen?  She  could  not  tell  him  that  she 
had  been  kissed  in  the  forest  by  another  than 
himself,  and  she  feared  if  she  might  compass 


236  ALBRECHT. 

that  he  should  understand  that  after  all  she  was 
not  to  blame.  She  had  but  been  friendly  to 
her  cousin ;  had  listened  to  him  as  any  lady 
might  listen  to  a  knight  who  was  handsome  and 
debonair,  and  had  responded  only  as  might  the 
dame  of  a  castle  to  her  guest,  or  at  most  as 
might  one  reply  to  a  gallant  warrior  of  her  own 
blood.  It  had  been  but  a  glance  now,  and  a 
pressure  of  the  hand  then ;  a  whispered  word, 
a  sigh  with  which  the  count  had  looked  into 
her  eyes;  and  until  to-day  there  had  been 
nothing  more.  To-day  — 

Her  cheeks  glowed  with  the  remembrance  of 
that  fervent  kiss !  She  thrilled  again  with  the 
ardor  of  the  glances  with  which  Count  Stephen 
had  regarded  her  as  they  rode  to  the  meadows 
where  the  falcons  had  been  thrown  off,  and 
when  now  and  then  his  eyes  had  encountered 
hers  as  they  watched  the  flight  of  the  birds. 

"  My  falcon  outsaileth  thine,"  he  had  mur- 
mured, "  but  his  master's  heart  can  never  leave 
thee !  " 

She  lashed  her  palfrey  afresh  as  she  recalled 
the  words ;  they  seemed  to  be  again  whispered 
into  her  ears,  as  if  the  sprites  of  the  wood 
had  heard  them  and  repeated  them  to  her 
shame  and  bewilderment.  Her  thoughts  whirled 
through  her  head  as  the  band  of  the  Wild  Hunts- 
man, tempest-driven,  might  sweep  through  the 


HOW  ERNA  SUFFERED.  237 

forest.  Had  she  forgotten,  then,  her  love  for 
her  husband,  she  questioned  herself,  or  was  it 
that  she  had  been  bewitched  and  entangled 
perchance  in  the  meshes  of  wicked  sorcery? 
Surely,  could  she  once  take  shelter  in  the  arms 
of  Albrecht  and  feel  his  strong  clasp  about  her, 
she  should  be  safe  from  these  wild  and  sinful 
thoughts.  She  fled  ever  faster,  hearing  in  the 
echoes  of  the  hoof-beats  of  her  own  palfrey  the 
trampling  of  Count  Stephen's  steed  behind 
her. 

Yet  when  she  indeed  stood  face  to  face  with 
Albrecht,  it  has  been  told  how  his  calm  and 
his  seeming  coldness  did  so  repel  and  chill  her 
that  she  was  fain  to  escape  from  him  without 
delay.  He  was  to  her  as  one  withdrawn  from 
the  turmoil  and  the  temptation  of  things  earthly ; 
and  although  she  misjudged  him  gravely,  yet 
none  the  less  did  she  hasten  speedily  to  her 
chamber,  there  to  be  alone  with  herself,  that 
she  might  calm  her  mind  and  do  away  with  the 
signs  of  agitation  which  Count  Stephen  would 
too  surely  mark  on  his  coming. 

She  had  scarcely  reached  the  quiet  of  her 
chamber  when  she  heard  the  hunt  come  clatter- 
ing into  the  courtyard  below,  and  the  cries  of 
page  and  groom  as  the  horses  were  led  away, 
and  the  damsels  and  the  retainers  entered 
the  castle;  and  presently  her  woman  Fastrade 


238  ALBRECHT. 

came  into  the  chamber,  while  close  upon  her 
heels  followed  Elsa,  both  of  them  a-quiver  with 
excitement  and  curiosity  over  what  had  hap- 
pened, and  of  which  they  had  been  able  only  to 
guess  a  part  from  the  little  which  they  had  seen. 
They  might  not  ask  their  mistress  concerning 
what  had  befallen,  but  they  endeavored  to  lead 
her  on  to  tell,  if  so  be  they  might. 

"  The  gracious  count  was  like  to  one  dis- 
tracted," Elsa  said  volubly,  "  at  that  he  had 
lost  sight  of  the  countess.  He  cried  out  that 
the  Lady  Countess  was  lost  in  the  forest,  and 
we  could  not  persuade  him  that  there  could  be 
no  fear  of  that.  He  would  remain  to  seek  in 
the  thickets,  despite  whatever  we  could  say." 

"  Sooth,  I  know  the  wood-ways  too  well  to 
miss  my  road,"  Erna  assented. 

"  So  in  truth  did  I  tell  the  gracious  count," 
Fastrade  quoth,  with  a  nod  of  self-satisfaction ; 
"  but  none  the  less  was  he  still  troubled  lest 
some  mishap  should  have  befallen." 

"  He  was  so  deeply  concerned,"  continued 
Elsa,  taking  up  the  word,  "  that  we  feared  lest 
perchance  he  might  have  offended  — " 

"  Or  that  he  might  in  sooth  be  to  blame," 
remarked  Fastrade,  as  Elsa  judiciously  left  her 
sentence  unfinished. 

"  And  Count  von  Rittenberg  is  so  desirous  of 
pleasing  —  " 


HOW   ERNA   SUFFERED.  239 

The  cunning  wench  once  more  let  the  words 
die  on  her  lips  half  spoken. 

"  And  such  a  gallant  rider  as  he  is,"  chorused 
Fastrade. 

"  And  no  one,  sure,  could  in  the  round  world 
cast  a  falcon  better." 

Erna  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  cheeks  burning 
red  with  fiery  shame. 

"  Get  thee  gone,"  she  cried  to  one  and  then 
to  the  other;  "and  thee  also!  Leave  me!" 

It  came  upon  her  burningly  that  it  was  to 
this  that  her  dalliance  with  the  count  had 
brought  her.  That  the  very  damsels  of  the 
castle  were  so  well  aware  of  her  relations  with 
her  cousin  that  they  thought  to  please  her  by 
sounding  his  praises.  Low  indeed  had  she 
fallen !  She  cast  herself  prostrate  upon  the 
stone  floor,  and  grovelled  there  with  weeping 
and  with  the  bitterness  of  shame.  Was  it  that 
she  who  had  so  long  been  as  proud  as  the  white 
heron  whose  plume  she  wore  in  state,  had  come 
to  be  gossiped  about  by  her  own  train,  to  be 
the  jest  of  menials,  to  be  spoken  of  lightly  and 
in  very  likelihood  to  be  jested  of  with  the  tongue 
in  the  cheek !  The  very  thralls  belike  had  the 
tale  of  her  weakness  by  heart  by  this,  and  could 
say  it  pat,  as  Father  Christopher  had  never  been 
able  to  teach  them  to  say  the  catechism. 

Surely  it  was  since  her  husband,   Albrecht, 


240  ALBRECHT. 

had  come  to  Rittenberg  that  she  had  thus  fallen 
from  what  she  was;  and  yet  he,  in  sooth,  had 
constantly  waxed  in  faith  and  in  godliness. 
Erna  groaned  in  spirit,  since  it  appeared  to  her 
that  it  must  indeed  be  that  her  nature  was  in 
itself  wicked  and  prone  to  fare  downward,  while 
that  of  Albrecht  was  by  some  inner  sanctity  led 
ever  in  the  way  of  grace.  She  fell  into  a  pas- 
sion of  tears  and  lamentation  until  her  tears  had 
run  dry,  and  she  was  exhausted  with  sobbing. 
Still  prone  upon  the  ground,  her  face  hidden  in 
her  dishevelled  hair,  she  heard  footsteps  ap- 
proach ;  and  presently  the  Lady  Adelaide,  her 
cane  tapping  sharply  as  she  walked,  stepped 
briskly  into  the  chamber. 

"  Body  of  Saint  Fridolin ! "  cried  the  old 
dame,  in  a  tone  of  shrill  amazement  and  anger; 
"  what  has  happened?  Elsa  declares  that  thou 
wert  wroth  without  aught  of  provocation,  and 
that  thou  dravest  both  her  and  Fastrade  out 
of  the  chamber,  albeit  she  could  not  tell  where- 
in they  had  offended  thee.  In  the  name  of 
Heaven's  Queen,  what  hath  come  to  thee?" 

The  tone  in  which  the  old  dame  spoke 
showed  some  traces  of  compassion  as  she  pro- 
ceeded, for,  to  say  sooth,  she  could  not  unmoved 
see  the  grief  of  her  niece,  and  she  ended  by 
bending  over  to  lay  her  withered  and  trembling 
old  hand  upon  the  fair  prostrate  head.  Erna 


HOW  ERNA   SUFFERED.  241 

raised  herself  into  a  sitting  posture,  and  taking 
the  wrinkled  fingers  in  her  own,  she  kissed  them 
warmly. 

"  Dear  heart,"  she  said,  "  I  am  in  sore  trouble, 
and  I  know  not  if  there  may  be  comfort  for  such 
as  I ;  but  wilt  thou  not  go  thyself  to  Father 
Christopher,  so  that  none  may  know,  and  bid 
him  that  he  come  to  me  in  mine  oratory?  Let 
him  not  delay." 

And  thus  Erna  resolved  to  confess  to  Heaven 
the  sin  which  had  been  in  her  heart,  albeit  it 
had  been  only  a  vague  desire. 


16 


242  ALBRECHT. 


XXIV 

HOW  COUNT  STEPHEN   MET  HERR 
FREDERICH. 

IT  was  in  sooth  with  angry  mind  that  Count 
Stephen  dashed  about  in  the  wood,  seek- 
ing for  his  cousin.  He  did  not  in  his  secret 
heart  expect  to  find  her,  but  it  seemed  to  him 
that  if  she  had  really  fled  to  the  castle  this 
would  mean  a  giving  up  of  the  hope  of  her  love. 
If  she  was  ready  to  yield  to  his  wooing,  she 
might  indeed  have  been  so  taken  by  surprise 
and  so  overcome  by  shyness  at  the  moment  as 
to  seek  instinctively  to  escape  him ;  but  he  re- 
fused to  own  to  himself  that  he  should  not 
find  her  lurking  in  some  thicket,  waiting  to  be 
discovered  and  forced  by  kisses  and  caresses  to 
own  that  her  heart  was  his.  It  was  that  if  this 
were  true  they  might  be  alone  that  he  had 
insisted  that  the  rest  of  the  hunt  should  return 
to  the  castle  while  he  remained  to  seek  in  the 
by-paths,  and  he  concerned  himself  very  little 
whether  his  story  that  the  palfrey  of  the  count- 
ess had  taken  fright  and  run  away  with  her 
was  believed  or  not 


HOW   STEPHEN   MET   FREDERICK.          243 

It  was  with  a  growing  despair  and  a  kindling 
anger  that  Count  Stephen  rode  from  thicket  to 
thicket,  finding  in  the  bosky  nooks  only  the 
gathering  shadows  and  the  birds  and  squirrels 
which  fled  at  his  approach.  Though  he  had  not 
truly  expected  to  find  Erna,  none  the  less  was 
he  enraged  and  disappointed  that  she  was  not 
here.  His  passion  for  his  beautiful  cousin  had 
taken  too  strong  a  hold  upon  him  not  to  stir 
him  now  with  deep  feeling  as  he  thought  of  the 
possibility  of  losing  her.  He  dashed  his  heavily 
gloved  hand  against  his  brow,  and  the  bosses 
of  his  hawking  gauntlet  left  their  imprint  upon 
the  flesh. 

"  God's  blood  !  "  he  cried,  in  impotent  wrath, 
"  I  will  not  lose  her !  " 

He  had  hardly  spoken  when  his  ear  caught 
the  sound  of  a  horse's  hoofs  upon  the  pine- 
needle-carpeted  ground,  and  the  soft  thud  sent 
a  thrill  through  his  whole  being. 

"  Who  goes  there?"  he  called. 

"  The  devil !  "  shouted  a  harsh  voice,  in  reply; 
and  with  a  burst  of  hoarse  laughter  Herr  von 
Zimmern  came  riding  out  of  the  dusk  of  the 
tree  shadows. 

Count  Stephen  stared  at  him  an  instant,  in 
mute  surprise  at  his  sudden  appearance  and  the 
wildness  of  his  manner. 

"  Whence  dost  thou  come?  "  he  demanded  in  a 


244  ALBRECHT. 

moment,  regaining  his  composure  and  speaking 
with  a  haughtiness  which  betrayed  his  vexation. 

"  Out  of  the  wood,"  the  other  answered  coolly. 
"And  thou?" 

" What  is  that  to  thee,  sirrah?"  retorted  the 
count. 

It  was  so  great  a  relief  to  have  some  one 
upon  whom  to  vent  his  wrath  that  he  made  not 
the  slightest  effort  to  restrain  himself,  and  his 
tone  was  so  insolent  that  he  was  astonished  that 
the  cripple  did  not  reply  in  anger. 

"  I  crave  pardon,"  Herr  Frederich  said,  sud- 
denly changing  his  manner,  as  if  it  occurred  to 
him  that  it  was  not  his  wish  to  offend.  "  I  was 
astonished  to  find  you  alone  in  the  forest  when 
I  had  thought  that  haply  one  we  will  not  name 
might  be  riding  with  you." 

Count  Stephen  ground  his  teeth,  but  he 
struggled  with  himself  that  he  should  give  an- 
swer calmly. 

"There  is  none  with  me,"  he  said,  "and  in 
sooth  I  do  not  know  by  what  right  thou  dost 
trouble  thyself  concerning  my  affairs.  What  is 
it  to  thee  who  may  or  who  may  not  be  abroad 
with  me?" 

Herr  Frederich  laughed  mockingly. 

"  Now,  by  the  True  Cross,"  he  returned,  "  you 
are  indeed  in  an  evil  mood.  It  was  but  that  I 
wished  you  well  that  I  said  it  was  strange  to 


HOW   STEPHEN  MET  FREDERICK.         245 

find  you  alone,  when  I  had  myself  bought  from 
the  wood-folk  a  promise  that  you  should  this 
day  have  opportunity  to  be  alone  with  one  who 
is  not  here." 

"God's  blood!"  cried  the  count;  "what 
hast  thou  to  do  with  the  wood-folk?" 

"  But  since  forsooth  you  are  in  so  shrewish  a 
mind,"  continued  Herr  Frederich,  ignoring  his 
words,  "  we  will  not  speak  of  it  further.  Haply 
I  might  have  had  that  to  tell  which  it  would 
have  been  well  for  you  to  know  had  you  been 
angry  at  being  left  thus  alone ;  but  it  is  of  no 
account.  Fare  you  well,  Sir  Count!" 

He  turned  his  horse  as  he  spoke,  as  if  he 
were  minded  to  return  into  the  gloom  of  the 
forest  whence  he  had  come.  Count  Stephen 
dashed  forward,  and  caught  his  rein. 

"  Not  so  fast,  sirrah  !  "  he  said  angrily.  "  If  in 
truth  thou  hast  anything  to  say,  out  with  it 
speedily,  or  by  God's  wounds  I  will  slay  thee 
on  the  spot.  Thou  mayst  see  if  I  am  in  the 
mind  to  be  lightly  trifled  with." 

"Nay,"  the  cripple  replied  undauntedly; 
"  you  do  not  seem  wholly  calm  and  peaceable 
in  your  temper.  It  may  be  that  it  will  mend  if 
you  can  wait  the  issue  of  the  errand  upon  which 
I  am  bound,  since  then  it  will  go  hard  but  you 
shall  come  nigh  to  the  fulfilment  of  your  heart's 
desire." 


246  ALBRECHT. 

The  count  regarded  the  other  somewhat  ask- 
ance. He  doubted  himself  of  this  swart  knave, 
and  while  he  was  not  over-scrupulous  concern- 
ing the  means  by  which  he  came  to  the  desires 
of  his  passions,  he  had  yet  a  contempt  for  the 
traitor  who  could  thus  betray  his  own  master. 
Moreover,  although  he  had  been  indebted  to 
Herr  Frederich  for  many  an  interview  with  the 
lady  of  the  castle,  since  the  cripple  had  brought 
Albrecht  into  the  hall  on  the  morning  when 
Erna  had  shown  the  scroll  of  Ovid,  the  count 
had  shrewdly  doubted  but  the  man  was  a  trai- 
tor to  all,  and  bound  only  to  make  mischief. 
Nevertheless,  so  deeply  did  the  heart  of  the 
count  long  for  the  love  of  Erna  that  he  was 
ready  for  anything,  short  of  the  blackest  villany, 
which  would  bring  him  nearer  to  the  fruit  of  his 
quest  He  bent  forward  in  the  dusk  of  the 
covert  where  they  had  met,  and  rested  his  hands 
upon  the  pommel  of  his  saddle. 

"  Speak  on,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  not  from  any  love  of  thee,"  Herr  Fred- 
erich began  with  careless  insolence,  suddenly 
assuming  the  speech  of  an  equal,  "  that  I  wish 
thee  success  in  thy  quest.  If  it  can  but  be 
compassed  that —  Ah,"  he  cried,  breaking  off 
and  with  his  voice  falling  into  a  strain  of  the 
most  passionate  bitterness,  "  if  I  can  wound  him 
through  his  lady,  I  shall  have  it  all ;  it  is  through 


HOW   STEPHEN   MET   FREDERICK.          247 

his  wife  that  I  must  reach  him ;  that  will  give 
me  my  revenge  here  and  hereafter !  I  can  gloat 
over  his  soul  in  torments  through  all  eternity !  " 

The  count  did  not  speak,  but  he  drew  back 
a  little  as  if  such  fiendish  hate  made  even  him 
afeard.  He  could  not  compass  the  reasons 
for  the  bitterness  of  the  other's  mind  toward 
Albrecht,  and  he  waited  for  what  more  Herr 
Frederich  might  say. 

"  She  is,  in  sooth,  coy  now,"  the  other  went 
on.  "  I  saw  her  flee  from  thee  through  the 
wood.  She  has  been  bred  by  a  priest,  and  she 
is  afraid  of  her  own  desires.  Her  blood  stirs 
for  thee,  but  she  is  yet  timid.  Have  patience 
yet  a  little  till  I  come  again.  Then  we  shall 
see." 

He  had  grown  wilder  in  his  air  until  he 
seemed  but  a  madman  raving;  and  Count 
Stephen,  who  knew  not  of  the  meeting  of  Al- 
brecht and  the  cripple  in  the  wood  when  Herr 
Frederich  had  thrown  off  all  his  disguises,  was 
bewildered  by  the  fashion  of  his  companion's 
speech. 

"  When  thou  comest  again,"  he  repeated. 
"Whither,  then,  dost  thou  go?" 

His  companion  bent  nearer,  as  if  he  feared 
that  in  the  shadows  about  them  might  be  ears 
which  should  hear  the  secret. 

"  Listen  !  "  he  said.     "  When  the  Morgengabe 


248  ALBRECHT. 

was  given,  the  Lady  Adelaide  put  it  into  my 
head  that  if  the  Huns  could  be  but  told  of  the 
richness  of  the  jewels  that  were  brought  to  Rit- 
tenberg,  they  would  not  be  long  on  their  way 
hither.  With  me  for  a  guide  they  will  not 
linger.  Ah,  ha !  My  Lord  Baron,"  he  cried, 
throwing  up  his  arms  in  a  wild  frenzy  of  rage 
and  excitement,  "  when  the  red  cock  crows  on 
the  towers  of  Rittenberg,  and  the  wife  is  fled  in 
the  arms  of  her  lover,  I  will  forgive  both  thee 
and  thy  cursed  father !  " 

The  count  regarded  him  in  amazement  and 
dismay. 

"Art  thou  mad?"  he  demanded.  "Wilt 
thou  in  truth  bring  down  the  Huns  upon 
Rittenberg?  " 

"Yea;  and  when  they  are  come,  it  will  not 
be  hard  to  bear  the  lady  away  whither  it  pleases 
you.  Who  is  there  at  Rittenberg  to  let  the 
Huns  of  their  will?" 

"  I !  "  cried  Count  Stephen,  with  sudden  rage. 
"  God's  wounds,  dost  thou  take  me  for  a  villain 
such  as  thou?" 

He  flung  himself  upon  Herr  Frederich  so  for- 
cibly that  they  both  went  down  among  the  feet 
of  the  horses  together.  He  caught  the  cripple 
by  the  throat  with  one  hand,  while  with  the 
other  he  drew  his  dagger. 

"Take  this  to  the  Huns  in  token !"  he  ex- 


HOW   STEPHEN  MET  FREDERICK.         249 

claimed,  dealing  the  fallen  man  stab  after  stab  ; 
"  and  this,  and  this  !  " 

The  other  struggled  fiercely  for  a  moment. 
It  was  so  dark  there  on  the  ground  that  the 
count  struck  at  him  blindly,  and  it  was  only 
when  the  blow  had  been  repeated  several  times 
that  the  cripple  was  quiet  Count  Stephen  held 
him  by  the  throat  in  his  powerful  grasp  until  he 
ceased  to  struggle ;  when  he  rose  he  became 
aware  that  Herr  Zimmern's  horse  had  escaped 
into  the  darkening  forest.  It  was  only  from  the 
chance  that  as  he  leaped  from  his  own  steed  the 
rein  had  been  thrown  over  the  broken  limb  of  a 
tree  by  which  he  was  standing  that  he  was  not 
himself  left  horseless. 

"  God's  blood  !  "  ejaculated  Count  Stephen, 
wiping  his  dagger  on  the  doublet  of  the  dead 
man;  "there  is  one  less  knave  in  the  world." 

He  touched  the  corse  contemptuously  with 
his  foot,  wondering  why  Herr  Frederich  had  so 
bitterly  hated  Albrecht,  and  for  the  moment 
considering  that,  after  all,  Herr  von  Zimmern 
had  been  his  only  ally  at  Rittenberg,  and  that 
it  was  not  wise  to  have  disposed  of  him  thus. 
Yet  when  he  reflected  that  if  he  had  been  left 
alive  it  would  have  been  simply  that  he  might 
have  opportunity  to  bring  in  the  dreaded  Huns 
to  devastate  the  land,  he  was  satisfied  that  it 
had  been  well  to  kill  the  knave  and  put  an  end 


250  ALBRECHT. 

to  his  scheming.  Count  Stephen  knew  what 
the  Huns  were.  They  had  overrun  not  a  little 
of  the  country  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  home ; 
and  as  he  thought  of  them  he  became  well 
pleased  with  himself  for  having  slain  one  who 
would  have  helped  the  heathen. 

But  even  the  pleasure  of  having  killed  a 
varlet  who  would  have  given  the  land  to  the 
fire  and  the  spear  of  the  Huns  could  not  for 
long  put  Count  Stephen  from  the  thought  of 
Erna.  He  got  upon  his  horse,  and  rode  slowly 
toward  the  castle,  as  completely  forgetting  the 
dead  man  behind  him  as  if  he  had  never  existed, 
and  leaving  the  body  to  the  wolves  with  as  little 
compunction  as  if  it  had  been  the  carcass  of  a 
hound. 

He  wondered  how  Erna  would  receive  him, 
and  whether  she  would  have  said  anything  to 
her  husband  of  the  happening  in  the  forest; 
and  at  last  he  bethought  him  of  a  means  by 
which  he  might  test  her  feelings. 

"  I  will  send  her  word,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  that  I  wish  to  take  my  leave.  Surely,  if  she 
forgive  me,  or  if  there  is  hope  for  me,  I  shall  be 
able  to  tell  it  when  I  see  her.  She  cannot  be  so 
angry  as  to  refuse  to  come;  and  besides,  she 
would  fear  that  her  husband  should  ask  the 
reason  if  she  treated  me  with  disdain.  She 
must  at  least  come  to  bid  me  farewell,  if  not  to 


HOW   STEPHEN  MET   FREDERICK.          251 

urge  upon  me  a  longer  stay  ;  surely  she  must 
come." 

And  with  this  design  in  his  mind,  Count  Ste- 
phen rode  on  more  briskly,  reaching  the  castle 
a  little  before  sunset. 

"  Gather  the  men  and  be  ready  to  ride  at 
once,"  he  commanded  his  captain,  whom  he 
encountered  in  the  courtyard. 

"  To-night?"  exclaimed  the  man,  staring  with 
astonishment. 

"  God's  blood  !  "  stormed  his  master  in  reply, 
"  it  is  necessary  that  I  give  orders  twice?  Now, 
I  said  ;  at  once  !  " 

And  striding  on,  he  left  the  retainer  holding 
his  horse  by  the  bridle  and  staring  after  him 
open-mouthed. 


252  ALBRECHT. 


XXV 

HOW  FATHER  CHRISTOPHER  SENT  FOR 
ALBRECHT. 

AFTER  Albrecht  had  been  left  by  Erna  in 
the  corridor,  he  stood  for  a  space  as  if 
he  had  neither  the  power  to  go  nor  yet  to 
stay.  He  was  full  of  jealousy  and  of  fear  at 
the  thought  of  what  might  have  befallen  in 
the  wood,  and  the  agitation  of  his  wife  showed 
him  that  though  Herr  Frederich  had  failed  of 
fulfilling  his  mission  of  evil,  yet  had  some- 
thing unusual  taken  place  there  when  the  baron 
had  not  been  present  to  see.  He  had  long 
understood  that  Count  Stephen  would  fain  win 
the  love  of  Erna,  and  mighty  had  been  the 
struggle  in  his  soul  as  he  questioned  with  him- 
self whether  in  truth  it  would  not  be  easy  for 
the  knight  to  gain  the  love  of  a  woman  from 
one  who  had  been  born  of  the  wild  race  of 
wood-folk. 

He  went  sadly  and  slowly  back  to  his  cham- 
ber, where  the  shadows  clustered  as  thickly 
as  the  trees  in  the  forest,  and  there  came  to 
his  mind  how  the  creatures  of  the  wood,  angry 


HOW   CHRISTOPHER   SENT   FOR  ALBRECHT.    253 

that  one  of  their  race  should  have  won  a  hu- 
man soul,  had  been  eager  to  give  their  aid  to 
the  schemes  of  Herr  Frederich ;  and  anew  there 
came  over  him  a  sense  of  the  mighty  struggle 
in  which  he  was  engaged.  The  stinging  taunts 
of  the  cripple  wounded  him  afresh,  singing 
themselves  over  again  in  his  ears  as  he  stood 
by  his  casement  in  the  gathering  darkness, 
looking  out  over  the  mighty  stretch  of  the 
forest.  He  recalled  the  cripple's  threat  that 
the  soul  of  Erna  should  be  so  dragged  down 
by  his  own  that  they  should  be  lost  together ; 
and  the  twofold  terror  of  bringing  upon  her 
whom  he  loved  the  doom  of  eternal  death  over- 
whelmed him.  The  serenity  which  he  had  on 
his  knees  won  in  the  chapel  deserted  him,  and 
he  cast  himself  down  upon  the  rushes  in  agony 
of  soul. 

He  hardly  knew  whether  it  was  moments  or 
hours  that  he  grovelled  in  the  dust,  —  nor  could 
he  know  that  apart  in  her  chamber  Erna,  too, 
had  fallen  into  a  like  abasement,  —  when  the 
coming  of  a  thrall  disturbed  him.  He  started 
to  his  feet,  and  waited  for  what  message  might 
be  come  to  him.  It  had  grown  so  dark  that 
the  glimmer  of  the  torch  which  the  servant 
carried  shone  in  a  golden  line  beneath  the 
door.  Smoothing  his  disordered  hair  with  his 
hand  as  he  went,  Albrecht  went  to  the  door 


254  ALBRECHT. 

and  opened  it.  The  glare  of  the  torch  blinded 
him  so  that  for  a  moment  he  could  see  nothing. 

"  If  the  gracious  Lord  Baron  will,"  the  thrall 
said,  "  Father  Christopher  prays  that  he  come 
to  him  with  no  delay." 

Albrecht  stood  a  moment  in  surprised  silence. 
Then  he  recovered  himself. 

"  Is  Father  Christopher  in  his  chamber?"  he 
asked. 

"  Yea,  my  Lord  Baron,"  the  servant  answered. 

"  Give  me  thy  torch,"  Albrecht  said,  taking  it, 
"  and  I  will  go  at  once.  Thou  need'st  not  come." 

Not  since  the  morning  after  his  wedding  had 
Albrecht  climbed  to  the  little  room  high  in  the 
western  tower ;  and  as  he  made  his  way  thither 
he  seemed  to  be  once  more  on  his  way  to  con- 
fess to  the  good  old  priest  the  strange  story  of 
his  life.  As  he  climbed  the  winding  stair  of  the 
tower  his  glance  fell  through  a  narrow  window, 
and  afar  he  saw  the  moon  rising  over  the  great 
forest  where  the  kobolds  were  gathering  for 
their  nightly  sports.  All  the  old  life  came  be- 
fore him,  and  for  the  moment  he  seemed  to 
have  lost  the  one  without  that  he  had  gained 
the  other.  He  was  no  longer  either  kobold  or 
man.  Then,  with  the  fierceness  of  one  who 
fights  temptation,  he  shook  off  these  thoughts, 
and  went  on  until  he  stood  before  Father 
Christopher. 


HOW   CHRISTOPHER   SENT   FOR  ALBRECHT.    255 

The  priest  was  walking  up  and  down  with 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  floor.  For  a  moment 
he  did  not  pause  or  look  up.  Then  he  paused 
beside  the  seat  upon  which  Albrecht  had  thrown 
himself,  his  kind  eyes  hardly  higher  than  those 
of  the  other,  so  tall  was  the  knight  in  his 
woodland  strength,  and  stood  looking  into  the 
baron's  face  with  a  regard  penetrating  but  full 
of  tenderness. 

"  The  time  hath  come,"  he  said,  "  when  thou 
must  tell  to  thy  wife  everything  that  is  hid  in 
thy  heart." 

"Everything?"  Albrecht  echoed,  dismay  and 
wonder  in  his  tone. 

"  Everything,"  the  priest  repeated  solemnly. 
"  My  son,  dost  thou  remember  that  once  in  this 
very  chamber  I  said  to  thee  that  thou  couldst 
not  hope  to  save  thy  soul  alone,  but  that  the 
fate  of  hers  by  whom  thou  didst  win  it  was 
bound  up  with  that  of  thine  own?  Now  is  it  the 
hour  when  thou  must  save  both  hers  and  thine." 

"  Truly  I  would  freely  give  mine  that  hers  be 
not  lost,"  Albrecht  returned. 

"  It  is  in  thine  hands,"  Father  Christopher 
went  on  as  if  he  heard  him  not.  "  She  loves 
thee  still." 

"  Still !  "  Albrecht  echoed  in  a  piercing  cry, 
springing  to  his  feet. 

His  face  was  white  with  the  terror  of  the  fear 


256  ALBRECHT. 

which  seemed  to  lurk  behind  the  words  of  the 
priest.  He  caught  Father  Christopher's  robe  by 
the  sleeve,  and  looked  at  him  with  terror  and 
appeal  in  his  face. 

"Nay,"  the  priest  said,  putting  out  his  hand, 
and  speaking  with  mingled  sweetness  and  re- 
proof, "  we  are  speaking  of  the  gracious  coun- 
tess and  thy  wife.  Thou  hast  nothing  to  fear. 
It  is  only  that  the  longings  which  thou  hast 
thyself  awakened  in  her  are  yet  strange  and 
not  wholly  mastered  by  her  will.  It  is  thou 
who  hast  given  her  these  temptations  as  surely 
as  she  has  given  thee  thy  soul.  There  is  never 
a  gift  between  two ;  something  is  always  given 
in  exchange." 

Albrecht  bowed  his  head  upon  his  hand.  His 
eyes  traced  the  long  shadow  which  the  torch, 
thrust  into  a  ring  upon  the  wall,  cast  along 
upon  the  floor,  bare  of  rushes. 

"  But  how  may  it  be,"  he  asked  sadly,  "  that 
I,  forsooth,  can  hope  to  save  either  her  or  yet 
myself  ?  " 

"  Because,"  Father  Christopher  returned  ten- 
derly, laying  his  hand  upon  the  bowed  head  as 
if  inwardly  he  blessed  the  strong  man  before 
him,  "  thou  hast  the  soul  of  a  child  and  the 
strength  of  a  knight ;  and  because,"  he  was  fain 
to  add,  with  a  soft  voice  that  was  like  a  caress, 
"  all  that  see  thee  must  needs  love  thee." 


HOW  CHRISTOPHER  SENT  FOR  ALBRECHT.    257 

"  But  why,"  Albrecht  asked,  "  sayest  thou 
that  it  were  well  that  I  tell  all  to  my  wife  ?  " 

The  priest  smiled  with  an  expression  which 
was  at  once  tender  and  wistful,  and  through 
which  yet  a  gleam  of  humor  played. 

"  My  son,"  he  answered,  "  I  am  an  old  man, 
and  I  have  in  sooth  seen  much  of  the  ways 
of  the  world,  and  of  the  ways  of  womankind 
not  a  little.  Trust  me  that  I  rede  thee  good 
counsel  in  this  matter.  Thy  wife  is  a  woman, 
and  so  it  is  well  that  thou  tell  her.  It  is  not 
always  easy  to  say  why  one  should  do  thus 
or  so  with  a  woman,  but  it  may  be  wise  to  do 
that  for  which  one  cannot  give  a  reason.  And 
besides,"  he  added  more  soberly,  "anon  per- 
chance thou  wilt  thyself  perceive  a  reason  for 
what  thou  now  doest  blindly.  Go,  my  son; 
and  Heaven  bless  thee  in  thy  going !  " 


'7 


ALBRECHT. 


XXVI 

HOW   ALBRECHT   AND   ERNA  FORGAVE 
EACH   OTHER. 

ERNA  came  from  her  interview  with  Father 
Christopher  calmer  in  mind,  but  still  full 
of  unrest  and  disquiet.  She  feared  to  see  Al- 
brecht,  and  yet  she  had  asked  the  priest  to 
send  him  to  her.  She  had  confessed  to  Father 
Christopher  how  far  she  had  gone  astray,  but 
his  assurances  that  all  would  be  well,  and  that 
she  had  turned  in  time  from  the  temptation 
which  beset  her,  could  not  console  her  without 
the  forgiveness  of  Albrecht,  and  in  her  secret 
heart  Erna  did  not  lack  that  keen  fear  of  her 
lord  which  is  the  necessary  foundation  of  a 
woman's  love.  She  believed  that  Albrecht  had 
observed  nothing  of  her  intimacy  with  Count 
Stephen,  and  she  dreaded  lest  his  old  imperi- 
ousness  should  break  out  at  the  disclosure  which 
she  must  make  to  him. 

Fastrade  came  to  summon  her  to  supper, 
which  was  already  served  in  the  hall ;  but  Erna 
sent  her  away,  and  waited  in  the  dusk  longing 


MOW  ALBRECHT  AND   ERNA   FORGAVE.      259 

and  yet  fearing  to  hear  the  approaching  steps 
of  her  husband.  When  at  last  she  heard  him 
coming,  she  could  not  control  the  terror  which 
seized  her.  She  felt  that  kiss  which  Count 
Stephen  had  pressed  upon  her  lips  in  the  beech 
wood  burning  as  if  it  were  a  spot  of  living  fire, 
and  she  sprang  up  with  the  desire  to  escape 
overpowering  all  other  feelings.  She  met  Al- 
brecht  on  the  threshold  of  her  chamber,  and  in 
the  darkness  she  had  touched  him  before  she 
realized  how  near  he  was. 

"  I  must  hasten  to  supper,"  she  said  breath- 
lessly. "  Fastrade  summoned  me." 

He  put  his  arm  about  her  and  led  her  back 
into  the  chamber.  She  clung  to  him  for  sup- 
port, for  her  strength  left  her,  and  she  could 
scarcely  stand. 

"  Wait  yet  a  little,"  he  said.  "  First  I  have 
that  which  I  must  say  to  you." 

She  submitted  with  a  feeling  of  despair.  She 
thought,  with  a  terrible  throb  of  pain,  of  the 
wedding  night  when  he  had  first  entered  that 
room,  and  of  all  that  had  befallen  since  then. 
She  was  utterly  abashed  and  humiliated,  and 
in  her  own  sight  she  was  viler  than  the  vilest. 
Albrecht  led  her  to  a  seat,  groping  his  way 
in  the  darkness  to  the  very  spot  by  the  window 
whence  she  had  first  seen  him  riding  out  of 
the  pine  forest  below  like  a  forest  god.  She 


260  ALBRECHT. 

sank  down  beside  him,  and  for  a  moment  both 
of  them  were  silent. 

"  I  have  to  confess  to  thee,"  Albrecht  said  at 
length ;  and  the  strangeness  of  his  tone  and  of 
his  address  struck  her  with  so  deep  an  amaze- 
ment that  for  the  moment  all  her  own  fears 
were  forgotten  in  wonder.  "  If  thou  canst  for- 
give the  wrong  I  have  done  thee  — " 

He  broke  off  and  bent  forward  in  the  dark- 
ness as  if  he  would  have  kissed  her.  Then  he 
drew  back. 

"Forgive  thee?"  stammered  Erna,  confused 
and  amazed.  "How  hast  thou  wronged  me?" 

"  If  one  should  come,"  Albrecht  said,  his  tone 
lower  than  before,  "  and  should  win  thee  and 
wed  thee  when  thou  knewest  not  what  he  was, 
or  how  unworthy,  couldst  thou  forgive  him  if 
afterward  he  loved  thee  truly  and  more  than 
tongue  could  tell?" 

The  fear  of  some  horrible  revelation  came 
over  her.  She  forgot  that  she  had  shrunk  at  his 
coming.  The  thought  that  she  might  have  been 
deceived  drove  from  her  mind  all  recollection 
of  her  own  fault.  She  sat  up  with  sudden 
energy. 

"  Albrecht !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  What  is  it 
that  thou  hast  to  tell  me?  Art  thou  not 
noble?  " 

"  I  have  not  lied  to  thee,"  he  answered  with 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND  ERNA  FORGAVE.   26l- 

a  touch  of  bitterness  amid  his  humility  wMch 
did  not  escape  her.  "  My  father  was  indeed 
lord  of  the  Neiderwasser  valley." 

"Then  what  hast  thou  to  tell  me?" 

It  was  some  moments  before  he  answered, 
but  then,  with  a  voice  full  of  passion  and  pain, 
he  told  her  all  that  he  had  related  to  Father 
Christopher  on  the  morning  after  the  marriage. 
Erna  listened  with  eyes  wide  stretched,  as  if 
she  would  pierce  the  darkness,  her  heart  beat- 
ing so  that  it  seemed  to  her  that  it  would  suffo- 
cate her.  It  seemed  a  thing  so  impossible  to 
understand  that  she  had  indeed  wed  a  strange 
creature  from  the  forest,  and  not  a  man  at  all, 
that  at  first  she  refused  to  believe  it. 

"  If  this  were  true,"  she  said,  "  surely  Father 
Christopher  would  have  told  me.  He  would 
not  have  suffered  me  to  imperil  my  soul  by 
such  a  union  had  it  indeed  been  true  that 
thou  wert —  Oh,  Albrecht,  thou  surely  art 
human !  I  should  not  love  thee  else." 

"And  dost  thou  indeed  love  me?" 

She  flung  herself  forward  into  his  strong 
arms. 

"  I  have  loved  thee,"  she  cried,  "  from  the 
first  moment  when  I  saw  thee.  ride  out  of  the 
wood  below." 

"  And  now?  " 

"  And  now,"  she  repeated,  "  thou  tellest  me 


262  ALBRECHT. 

that  thou  art  not  a  man,  but  that  thou  art  a 
monster  of  the  wood." 

"  Truly  I  was  a  monster,  but  thou  hast  made 
me  other.  Thou  hast  given  me  a  soul,  and 
now  I  am  human  as  thou  art.  It  was  that 
I  might  have  a  soul  that  Herr  von  Zimmern 
trained  me,  and  only  to-day  I  know  that  it 
was  because  he  wished  me  ill,  and  schemed  that 
I  should  be  lost  forever." 

"And  must  thou  indeed  be  lost  forever?" 
Erna  cried,  starting  away  from  him  and  then 
clasping  him  more  closely. 

"  Nay,  sweetheart;  thou  hast  given  me  a 
soul,  and  I  have  striven  that  it  be  not  lost. 
Thou  hast  given  me  a  soul,  and  thou  wilt  help 
me  that  it  be  for  me  all  blessedness  instead  of 
the  ruin  that  he  in  his  wickedness  meant." 

"I?" 

The  remembrance  of  all  that  she  had  not 
told  him  swept  over  her  like  a  wave  of  the  sea. 
She  slipped  from  his  side  down  to  his  feet,  and 
crouched  there,  clasping  his  knees.  She  re- 
membered all  her  old  longing  for  spiritual 
greatness  and  for  virtue,  and  how  she  had 
fallen  into  the  temptations  of  the  lower  things. 
Bitter  tears  gushed  from  her  eyes,  and  a  sob 
choked  her  voice. 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  for  me  to  help  thee  !  "  she  cried. 
"  Thou  art  above  me,  kobold  though  thou  hast 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND   ERNA   FORGAVE.      263 

been.  Thou  shouldst  not  confess  to  me ;  it  is 
I  who  must  confess  to  thee.  It  is  thou  who 
must  forgive.  Thou  canst  not  guess  why  Father 
Christopher  sent  thee  to  me  to-night." 
•  "  Sweetheart,"  Albrecht  answered,  bending 
over  to  raise  her,  "  I  have  seen  all  from  day 
to  day,  and  I  knew  how  the  count  would  have 
ensnared  thee;  but  I  had  no  fear  that  in  the 
end  thou  wouldst  understand  what  danger  lay 
in  him.  It  is  I  who  am  at  fault,  since  it  is  I 
from  whom  thou  hast  learned  the  longings  that 
have  made  thy  temptation.  If  thou  canst  for- 
give me,  and  love  me  still,  it  may  be  that  in 
the  end  we  may  help  each  other,  and  our  souls 
that  are  one  be  together  lifted  up." 

Beneath  in  the  courtyard  there  was  a  stir  as 
of  horses  and  of  retainers,  and  upon  the  ceiling 
over  their  heads  there  flashed  the  light  of  a 
torch  which  some  servant  carried  down  below. 
In  the  faint  reflected  light  Erna  could  almost 
see  the  face  of  her  husband,  and  with  a  sob 
of  perfect  peace  and  of  swelling  aspiration  she 
cast  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  felt  herself 
gathered  into  his  strong  embrace. 

As  they  sat  there  talking  and  telling  each 
other  all  the  things  which  they  had  hitherto 
kept  secret,  the  bustle  in  the  courtyard  in- 
creased, and  presently  came  the  damsel  Elsa 
to  say  that  the  Count  Stephen  had  determined 


264  ALBRECHT. 

to  take  his  leave  of  Rittenberg  that  night,  and 
prayed  the  countess  to  receive  his  farewell. 

"To-night?"  Albrecht  repeated  in  astonish- 
ment. "  Surely  he  is  jesting." 

"  So  the  gracious  Lady  Adelaide  said,"  re- 
turned Elsa,  with  saucy  demureness,  "  and  she 
swore  it  by  the  body  of  Saint  Fridolin ;  but 
still  the  noble  count  declares  that  he  will  set 
out." 

"  But  the  darkness,  and  the  danger  of  miss- 
ing the  way,"  Erna  said ;  "  and  above  all  the 
wolves !  " 

"  The  Lady  Adelaide  mentioned  them  all," 
the  damsel  responded,  "  and  witnessed  them  all 
by  Saint  Fridolin's  body;  but  quoth  the  knight 
that  if  he  could  not  keep  his  bones  from  the 
wolves  he  deserved  to  have  them  picked.  Only 
on  one  charge  will  he  stay." 

"And  what  is  that?"  demanded  Erna;  but 
she  saw  the  look  askance  which  Elsa  gave 
toward  Albrecht,  and  the  blood  rushed  into 
her  cheek. 

"  It  is  that  the  gracious  countess  insist  upon 
his  staying,"  Elsa  answered,  courtesying  so  pro- 
foundly that  the  rushlight  she  carried  wavered 
and  flared. 

Erna  waved  her  hand  in  dismissal,  and  the 
damsel  with  her  rushlight  took  herself  out  of  the 
chamber.  Left  together  in  the  darkness,  their 


HOW  ALBRECHT  AND   ERNA  FORGAVE.      265 

eyes  blinded  by  having  looked  on  the  flame. 
Albrecht  and  Erna  drew  close  together,  and 
she  clung  to  him  as  if  he  had  saved  her  from 
some  mighty  danger. 

"Wilt  thou  that  he  go  or  stay?"  Albrecht 
asked,  the  tenderness  in  his  voice  showing  her 
that  he  did  not  ask  the  question  from  any  doubt 
of  her.  "  Do  not  dismiss  him  for  fear  I  shall 
be  troubled  if  he  stay." 

She  led  him  to  the  window  where  the  torches 
below  shone  strongly  enough  for  them  to  see 
each  other's  face,  and  there  she  looked  into 
his  eyes  a  moment. 

"  What  I  desire,"  she  said,  "  is  that  he  go  and 
leave  us  alone  together  as  we  were  before  he 
came.  Wilt  thou  not  go  down  and  receive  his 
farewells?  I  wish  not  to  see  him  again." 

He  kissed  her  with  fervor,  and  yet  with  some- 
thing of  solemnity  in  his  manner. 

"  We  have  forgiven  each  other,"  he  said, 
"  and  now  we  will  help  each  other." 

Then  he  went  down  to  meet  Count  Stephen ; 
and  Erna,  left  alone,  looked  out  upon  the  lights 
of  the  courtyard  with  a  sigh  and  yet  with  a 
great  peace  and  joy  filling  her  breast 

THE  END. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers    Publications. 

THE     PENTAMEEON,    CITATION     FROM    WILLIAM      SHAK- 
SPEAEE,  AND  MINOE  PEOSE  PIECES  AND  CEITICISMS. 

By  WALTER  SAVAGE  LANDOR.     i2mo.    Cloth.     Price,  $2.00. 

This  volume,  "Imaginary  Conversations"  (5  vols.),  and  "Pericles  and 
Aspasia"  (i  vol.),  comprise  Lander's  entire  prose  writings. 

SUNDAY-SCHOOL   STOEIES 

On  the  Golden  Texts  of  The  International  Lessons  of  1889.  First 
Half,  January-June.  By  Rev.  EDWARD  E.  HALE.  i6mo.  Cloth. 
Price,  jii.oo. 

SUNDAY-SCHOOL   STOEIES 

On  the  Golden  Texts  of  the  International  Lessons  of  1889.  Second 
Half,  July-December.  By  Kev.  EDWARD  E.  HALE.  i6mo.  Cloth. 
Price,  £1.00. 

SUNDAY-SCHOOL  STOEIES   FOE  LITTLE   CHILDEEN 

On  the  Golden  Texts  of  the  International  Lessons  of  1889.  July- 
December.  By  Miss  LUCRETIA  P.  HALE  and  Mrs.  BERNARD  WHIT- 
MAN. One  volume.  Square  i6mo.  Cloth.  Price,  #1.00. 

"The  publishers  of  this  volume  issued  in  January  a  collection  of  twenty-six 
stories  founded  upon  the  texts  of  the  International  Course  for  the  first  six  months  of 
this  year.  They  will  issue  this  month  a  series  of  twenty-six  stories  corresponding 
to  the  lessons  of  the  last  six  months  of  the  year.  These  stories  are  written  by  what 
in  the  Wadsworth  Clubs  we  call  a  'Ten,'  —  several  of  them  by  myself,  and  the 
othert  by  my  sisters,  my  children,  and  by  Mrs.  Bernard  Whitman,  the  Secretary 
of  the  Ten  'rimes  One  orders.  It  is  pleasant  to  acknowledge  the  interest  and 
favor  with  which  the  collection  already  published  has  been  received  by  teachers 
of  Sunday-schools.  But  it  had  scarcely  appeared  before  we  received  an  earnest 
appeal  from  all  quarters  that  we  would  attempt  the  preparation  of  another  series, 
intended  for  the  younger  children ;  they  make  so  large  a  part  of  every  Sunday- 
school  that  whatever  helps  them  or  their  teachers  helps  forward  the  whole.  I 
felt  at  once  some  surprise  that  the  general  wish  for  such  a  collection  had  not  been 
sooner  acknowledged  and  provided  for.  I  therefore  urged  Mrs.  Whitman  and 
my  sister  Lucretia  to  undertake  at  once  the  compilation  of  a  volume  which  should 
meet  the  purposes  of  the  younger  classes  in  all  our  Sunday-schools,  as  they 
engaged  in  the  study  of  the  International  texts  for  this  year.  They  have  under- 
taken this  very  pleasant  office,  and  the  reader  has  in  hand  the  stories  which  they 
have  provided  for  the  little  people. 

"It  is  published  at  the  same  time  with  the  collection  for  older  boys  and  girls, 
which,  as  before,  was  written  by  what  I  am  tempted  to  call  my  own  '  Ten.'  Both 
of  them  are  published  with  our  best  hopes  and  prayers  for  the  welfare  of  the 
young  people  for  whom  they  are  written." — Edward  E.  Hale. 

EOGEE  BEEKELEYS   PEOBATION. 

A  Story.  By  HELEN  CAMPBELL,  author  of  "  Prisoners  of  Poverty," 
"Miss  Melinda's  Opportunity,"  "Mrs.  Herndon's  Income,"  "The  What- 
to-do  Club."  i2tno.  Cloth.  Price,  j?i.oo;  paper  covers,  50  cents. 

"It  is  one  of  those  stories  that  always  appeal  to  the  sympathies,  and  will  find 
a  large  circle  of  readers  among  those  who  still  believe  in  the  courage,  gratitude, 
and  fidelity  of  man.  The  tale  is  well  conceived  and  prettily  set  in  an  old- 
fashioned  country  house,  the  characters  are  in  the  main  well  drawn,  and  the 
climax  very  effective.  The  author's  style  is  bright  and  lively,  and  though  the 
materials  she  has  used  are  not  new,  they  are  most  pleasantly  modelled  to  suit 
her  ends."  —  Commonwealth. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications. 


PRISONERS   OF   POVERTY  ABROAD. 

By  HELEN  CAMPBELL,  author  of  "Prisoners  of  Poverty,''  "The 
What-to-do  Club,"  etc.  i6mo.  Cloth.  Price,  £1.00 ;  paper  covers,  50 
cents. 

"  It  is  a  noble  work  that  Helen  Campbell  is  doing  in  exposing  the  social 
conditions  against  which  working-women  are  striving  in  order  to  live  respectably 
and  happily,  as  they  have  the  natural  right  to  live.  Imagination  has  no  part  in 
her  description  of  their  lot;  but  experience  in  acquaintance  with  them  in  their 

conscience.  And  whether  women  are  laborers  of  the  United  States,  England, 
France,  or  Germany,  as  pictured  in  her  new  book  ('  Prisoners  of  Poverty  Abroad'), 
they  are  largely  indebted  to  her  for  their  advance  to  recognition  with  workmen 
as  contestants  for  readjustment  of  the  relations  of  capital  and  labor  The  new 
book  is  quite  as  serious  and  appealing  as  the  other,  and  shows  about  the  same 
privation  in  conditions  and  inequalities  in  wages."  —  Boston  Globe. 

A  RAMBLING  STORY. 

By  MARY  COWDEN  CLARKE.  A  new  edition.  i6mo.  Cloth.  Price, 
$1.00  ;  paper  covers,  50  cents. 

"In  'A  Rambling  Story'  Mary  Cowden  Clarke,  whose  more  serious  Shake- 
spearian studies  have  made  her  name  pleasantly  and  honorably  known  to  students, 
tells  a  romantic  tale  of  art,  love,  adventure,  arid  travel.  .  .  .  The  story  has  for 
its  heroes  and  heroines,  principal  and  subordinate,  true,  high-hearted,  romantic 

"  "   and  about  ' 
Tribune. 


characters,  and  is  simply,  pleasantly,  and  at  times  delightfully  told,  and  abounds 
3rd-picturing  and  phrasing  and  romantic  incidents."  —  Chicago  ~ 


A  WOODLAND  WOOING. 

A  Story.     By  ELEANOR  PUTNAM.     i6mo.     Cloth.     Price,  Ji.oo. 

"  The  reader  must  be  dull  indeed  who  could  not  be  won  from  his  sufhmer 
drowsiness  by  enjoyment  of  the  breeziness  and  cheeriness,  the  unforced  brightness 
and  charming  originality  of  this,  the  most  amusing  '  summer  novel  '  which  has  up 
to  date  f<  und  its  way  to  our  table.  Its  pages  breathe  of  youth  and  summer 
weather,  of  clover-fields  and  mountain  brooks.  One  is  quickened  with  a  sense  of 
something  near  and  sweet  and  wholesome  in  its  pleasant  company.  It  is  the 
story  of  a  summer's  'camping-out,'  told  in  alternate  chapters  by  a  brother  and 
sister,  of  the  frank,  jolly,  rather  'picklesome  '  sort."  —  Exchange. 

COUNTER-CURRENTS. 

A  Story.     By  the  author  of   "Justina."     i6mo.     Cloth.     Price,    75 


cents. 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE'S  COMPLETE  WORKS. 

From  the  text  of  the  Rev.  ALEXANDER  DVCE'S  second  edition.  With 
Portrait,  Memoir,  and  Glossary.  A  cheap  edition.  7  vols.  i6mo.  Cloth. 
Price,  $5.25. 

The  "  Alexander  Dyce  "  edition  of  Shakespeare's  plays  and  poems  is  pre- 
sumedly one  of  the  most  accurate  among  the  many  editions  which  have  been 
published.  The  interpretation  of  the  text  has  the  indorsement  of  our  best 
scholars,  both  in  Enebnd  and  Amer'ca.  The  edition  is  issued  in  small,  handy 

S 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers    Publications. 

THE   TRUTH  ABOUT  CLEMENT  KER. 

A  Novel.  By  GEORGE  FLEMING,  author  of  "  Kismet,"  "  Mirage," 
"Head  of  Medusa,"  etc.  161110.  Price,  75  cents. 

"  Under  the  name  of  '  George  Fleming,'  Miss  Julia  Fletcher  has  for  more 
than  a  decade  been  ministering  to  the  pleasure  of  readers  of  the  better  sort  of 
fiction  ;  but  we  do  not  remember  that  in  all  that  period  she  has  produced  a  more 
thoroughly  original  and  artistic  novel  than  'The  Truth  about  Clement  Ker.' 
From  the  literary  point  of  view  Miss  Fletcher's  work  has  always  been  of  a  rare 
and  charming  quality.  Her  style  is  nervous,  graceful,  impressive,  strong.  .  .  . 
The  plot  is  admirably  managed.  Nothing  could  surpass  the  skill  with  which  the 
interest  is  slowly  brought  to  centre  upon  the  hidden  chamber  in  the  ruins,  and 
the  haunting  terror  of  the  closing  chapters  is  something  to  be  remembered. 
Here  again  the  author  enforces  the  artistic  creed  of  nothing  too  much.  The 
mystery  remains  a  mystery  to  ihe  last,  or  at  any  rate  is  only  to  be  solved  by  the 
reader's  ingenuity."  —  Boston  Beacon. 

ROMANCES   OF  REAL  LIFE. 

First  and  Second  Series  (sold  separately).  Selected  and  annotated  by 
LEIGH  HUNT,  author  of  "The  Book  of  the  Sonnet,"  "The  Seer,"  "A 
Day  by  the  Fire,"  etc.  2  vols.  i6mo.  Price,  75  cents  each. 

Crimes,  virtues,  humors,  plots,  agonies,  heroical  sacrifices,  mysteries  of  the 
most  extraordinary  description,  though  taking  place  in  the  most  ordinary  walks 
of  life  are  the  staple  commodity  of  this  book ;  all  true,  and  over  the  greater 
portion  of  them  hangs  the  greatest  of  all  interests  —  domestic  interest. 

FRENCH  AND   ENGLISH. 

A  Comparison.  By  PHILIP  GILBERT  HAMERTON.  One  volume. 
I2mo.  Cloth.  Price,  $2.00. 

"Mr.  Hamerton's  comparison  of  the  two  nations  follows  a  very  methodical 
order.  He  compares  them,  step  by  step,  in  reference  to  education,  patriotism, 
politics,  religion,  virtues,  customs,  and  society.  The  chapters  on  the  virtues  — 
which  are  philosophically  classified  under  the  heads  of  truth,  justice,  purity,  tem- 
perance, thrift,  cleanliness,  and  courage  —  abound  in  suggestive  observations." 
—  Academy. 

INSIDE   OUR  GATE. 

A  Story.  By  Mrs.  CHRISTINE  C.  BRUSH.  Author  of  "  The  Colo- 
nel's Opera  Cloak,"  in  the  "  No  Name  Series."  i6mo.  Cloth.  Price, 

$1.25. 

"One  of  the  most  amusing  stories  of  the  season  is  'Inside  our  Gate,' by 
Christine  Chaplin  Brush,  the  author  of  the  'Colonel's  Opera  Cloak,'  a  book 
which  achieved  a  great  popular  success  several  years  ago.  In  her  new  book  the 
writer  has  sustained  her  reputation,  and  gives  us  reproductions  of  quaint  charac- 
ters met  with  in  household  experiences  that  are  full  of  an  entertaining  truthfulness 
to  life.  Swedish,  Scotch,  Irish,  and  rustic  American  peculiarities  are  brought 
forward  in  this  volume  with  a  realism  that  shows  the  author  has  carefully  studied 
the  subjects  chosen  for  illustration.  The  young  or  old  matron  who  has  been 
obliged  to  haunt  intelligence-offices  in  search  of  servants  will  find  in  these  pages 
matter  highly  suggestive  of  her  own  trials  and  tribulations,  set  forth  in  a  bright 
and  piquant  manner  that  will  make  very  spicy  reading  in  the  hours  that  can  be 
spared  from  domestic  duties."  —  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

THE  STORY  OF  REALMAH. 

By  Sir  ARTHUR  HELPS,  author  of  "Friends  in  Council,"  "Casimir 
Maremma,"  etc.     i6mo.     Cloth.     Price,  75  cents. 
9 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Publications. 

CASIMIE   MAEEMMA. 

A  Story.  By  Sir  ARTHUR  HELPS,  author  of  "Friends  in  Council," 
"  The  Story  of  Kealmah,"  etc.  First  American  edition.  i6mo.  Cloth. 
Price,  75  cents. 

BY  LEAFY  WAYS. 

Brief  Studies  in  the  Book  of  Nature.  By  F.  A.  KNIGHT.  With  nu- 
merous beautiful  illustrations  by  E.  T.  Compton.  i2mo.  Cloth.  Price, 

£2.00. 

"  The  author  leads  us  through  all  the  varying  year  in  a  series  of  delightful 
chapters.  It  is  hard  to  single  out  one  as  superior  to  another.  His  diction  has  a 
character  of  its  own.  So  ingeniously  does  he  blend  what  he  has  seen  with  what 
he  has  read,  and  all  in  such  an  original  manner,  that  one  feels  one's  self  in 
the  presence  of  a  new  master.  He  transmutes  the  spirit  of  the  country  into  the 
language  of  the  town  in  a  way  which  appeals  alike  to  the  naturalist  and  to  the 
man  of  letters.  His  very  table  of  contents  is  enough  to  make  a  Londoner  long 
for  another  holiday."  — London  Academy. 

THE  LITTLE    PILGEIM :    Further  Experiences. 

On  the  Dark  Mountains.   The  Land  of  Darkness.    i6mo.   Cloth,  limp. 
Price,  60  cents. 

This  volume  is  uniform  with  our  edition  of  "  A  Little  Pilgrim,"  and  is  a 
continuation  of  that  book. 

STOBIES  OF  THE  SEEN  AND  THE  UNSEEN. 

By  Mrs.  MARGARET  O.  W.  OLIPHANT.  Including  the  four  books 
hitherto  published  anonymously,  viz :  "  A  Little  Pilgrim  :  In  the  Unseen  ; " 
"The  Little  Pilgrim:  Further  Experiences,  etc. ;"  "Old  Lady  Mary,  a 
Story  of  the  Seen  and  the  Unseen ; "  "  The  Open  Door.  —  The  Portrait : 
Two  Stories  of  the  Seen  and  the  Unseen."  In  one  volume.  i6mo. 
Cloth.  Price,  $1. 25. 

WITH  SA'DI  IN  THE   GAEDEN ; 

Or,  The  Book  of  Love.  Being  the  "  Ishk  "  or  third  chapter  of  the 
"  Bostan  "  of  the  Persian  poet  Sa'di,  embodied  in  a  dialogue  held  in  the 
garden  of  the  Taj  Mahal,  at  Agra.  By  Sir  EDWIN  ARNOLD,  M.A., 
K.C.I.E.,  C.S.I.  One  volume.  i6mo.  Cloth.  Uniform  with  "The 
Light  of  Asia,"  "  Pearls  of  the  Faith,"  etc.  Price,  gr.oo. 

"  '  With  Sa'di  in  the  Garden,'  by  Sir  Edwin  Arnold,  continues  the  service  of 
making  English  readers  acquainted  with  the  classical  poetry  of  the  East,  in  which 
the  author  has  been  so  long  and  so  successfully  engaged.  This  is  in  most  respects 
the  most  interesting  contribution  Sir  Edwin  has  given.  It  is  a  more  connected 
story,  and  its  motive  is  clearer  than  in  his  other  translations  and  paraphrases. 
The  poems  from  Sa'di  abound  in  rare  beauty  of  thought  and  fancy,  and  are 
delightful  independently  of  the  text  in  which  they  are  embedded.  The  wonder- 
fully flexible,  idiomatic,  and  strong  and  chaste  English  of  Sir  Edwin  Arnold  has 
a  special  charm  of  its  own ;  and  his  command  over  English  diction  has  been 
nowhere  shown  by  him  with  greater  fulness,  brilliancy,  and  force  than  in  this 
volume,  which  appeals  strongly  to  every  finely  cultivated  taste  and  every  lover  of 
poetry  in  its  finest  and  truest  essence."  —  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers1  ^Publications* 

THE  COMPLETE  POETICAL  WORKS  OF  SIR  EDWIN  ARNOLD. 

2  vols.     i2mo.    Cloth,  gilt.    Price,  $4.00. 

This  edition  includes  all  of  the  Poetical  Works  previously  published  in  eight 
volumes,  thus  condensing  them  into  a  portable  and  permanent  form. 

ETHICAL  RELIGION. 

By  WILLIAM  MACKINTIRE  S ALTER.     i2mo.    Cloth.    Price,  #1.50. 

"  It  should  be  read  by  all  who  wish  to  know  the  real  spirit  and  purpose  of 
the  ethical  movement.  It  is  a  valuable  addition  to  the  movement,  one  of  the  best 
fruits  it  has  yet  produced.  The  book  does  not  pretend  to  be  a  philosophical 
treatise  ;  its  purpose  is  purely  practical  and  moral.  The  moral  purpose  that  holds 
ethical  societies  together  and  animates  their  work  is  here  strongly  and  beautifully 
presented.  Every  page  is  a  call  to  the  higher  life.  The  gospel  of  the  supremacy 
of  ethics  is  nobly  vindicated."  —  Ethical  Record. 

MISS  EYRE   FROM  BOSTON,  AND   OTHERS. 

By  LOUISE  CHANDLER  MOULTON.  One  volume.  i6mo.  Cloth, 
Price,  $1.25 ;  paper  covers,  50  cents. 

"  Mrs.  Louise  Chandler  Moulton's  stories  are  always  certain  to  be  worth 
reading ;  for  the  author  understands  human  nature  thoroughly,  she  has  the  gift 
of  devising  original  motives,  her  style  is  piquant,  and  her  satire  almost  uncon- 
scious in  its  felicity.  '  Miss  Eyre  from  Boston '  is  a  book  that  all  gently-nurtured, 
good-hearted  girls  ought  to  delight  in  reading."  —  The  Beacon. 

IN  THE  GARDEN   OF  DREAMS. 

Lyrics  and  Sonnets.  By  LOUISE  CHANDLER  MOULTON.  Author  of 
"Poem  by  L.  C.  M.,"  "Random  Rambles,"  "Miss  Eyre  from  Boston," 
etc.  i6mo.  Cloth.  Illustrated.  Price,  #1.50. 

CHATA  AND   CHINITA. 

A  Story.  By  Mrs.  LOUISE  PALMER  HEAVEN.  Uniform  in  style 
with  "  Ramona."  One  volume.  i2mo.  Cloth.  Price,  $1.50. 

"  The  local  color  is  novel,  the  plot  striking,  and  the  character-sketches  are 
vivid.  Even  if  the  reader  be  averse  to  stories  of  adventure,  he  will  find  his 
interest  captured  here  at  the  start,  and  proceed  breathlessly  to  the  end  of  '  Chata 
and  Chinita.'  .  .  .  The  reader's  interest  is  sustained  throughout  the  book,  and 
the  narrative,  from  beginning  to  end,  is  both  picturesque  and  absorbing.  Un- 
doubtedly there  are  too  many  characters  introduced  into  the  story,  and  sometimes 
the  reader  is  fairly  bewildered  by  the  rapid  succession  of  exciting  events;  but  in 
making  the  criticism  we  must  remember  that  the  writer's  aim  has  been  to  give  us 
a  living  picture  of  a  glowing  period  of  Mexican  life,  —  to  write,  in  fact,  that  old- 
fashioned  article  known  as  a  romance.  That  she  has  accomplished  this  difficult 
task  brilliantly,  no  one  can  deny.  Few  readers  who  once  take  up  her  fascinating 
tale  of  love  and  adventure  will  lay  it  down  without  finishing  it.  'Chata  and 
Chinita'  is  in  many  ways  a  remarkable  novel."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

BELIEF. 

By  GEORGE  L.  CHANEY.    i6mo.    Cloth.    Price,  Ji.oo. 

A  series  of  discourses  under  the  several  headings  of  Man,  God,  Christ, 
Heaven,  Hell,  etc.,  the  object  of  which  is  to  find  some  basis  of  truth  and  reality 
on  which  to  plant  the  feet  of  active  charity,  and  where  a  genuine  devotion  may 
kneel  without  superstition  or  fear. 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers   Publications. 

A  FEW  MORE  VERSES. 

By  SUSAN  COOLIDGE.  One  volume.  i6mo.  Cloth.  Price,  $1.00. 
An  entirely  new  collection,  and  companion  to  the  first  volume,  "  Verses 
by  S.  C;,"  of  which  the  "New  Haven  Palladium"  says: 

"  '  Verses,"  a  modest  name  for  a  casket  of  gems,  a  collection  of  rare  and 
beautiful  literary  pearls." 

A  MODERN  MEPHISTOPHELES.       . 

By  LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT,  author  of  "Little  Women."  One  volume. 
i6mo.  Cloth.  Price,  £1.50. 

"A  Modern  Mephistopheles "  was  written  by  Miss  Alcott  for  the  "No 
Name  Series  "  of  novels,  and  is  now  for  the  first  time  published  with  her  name  as 
its  author.  In  this  volume  is  included  a  new  story  (60  pp.),  never  before  printed, 
entitled  "  A  Whisper  in  the  Dark." 

LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT: 

Her  Life,  Letters,  and  Journals.  Edited  by  EDNAH  D.  CHENEY. 
With  portraits  and  view  of  •  the  Alcott  Home  in  Concord.  One  volume. 
i6mo.  Uniform  with  "  Little  Women."  Price,  $i. 50. 

Mrs.  Cheney  has  allowed  this  popular  author  to  tell  the  story  of  her  early 
struggles,  her  successes,  and  prosperity  and  life-work,  in  her  own  inimitable 
style,  gracefully  weaving  the  daily  record  of  tliis  sweet  and  useful  life  into  a  gar- 
land of  immortelles  in  a  manner  at  once  pleasing  and  within  the  comprehension  of 
the  thousands  of  readers  and  admirers  of  Miss  Alcott's  books.  It  might  truly  be 
called  the-biography  of  "  Little  Women." 

The  volume  is  enriched  by  the  addition  of  two  new  portraits  of  Miss  Alcott, 
one  taken  at  the  time  she  went  into  the  service  of  her  country  as  a  hospital  nurse, 
the  other  when  she  was  in  the  full  maturity  of  her  popular  career. 


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